Come What May
by Serpent of Slytherin
Summary: Hermione's life has been torn to shreds. She goes back to Hogwarts for her final year as Head Girl, not knowing that the person she needs most will be right there with her. HGDM
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**A.N. **After that last fic of mine, I found I couldn't wait to write another one. So here we are, fic No. 2, and I hope you guys like it. One thing though, this one will be much darker than the last. Lots of teen angst and such. Just so you know.

**Come What May**

**Chapter One**

Hogwarts had let out six weeks ago, and Hermione Granger could not wait to get back. Her sixth year had been full of unpleasant and unexpected surprises, which would normally be expected, but not this time. At the end of the term six weeks ago, Professor Dumbledore had been murdered. Murdered in cold blood by someone Hermione had always thought had given up his ways. Professor Snape had been living a double life all year, and finally fulfilled what Draco Malfoy should have done. Snape killed Albus Dumbledore.

Now, you may wonder, why did Hermione want to go back to Hogwarts so bad when the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen was dead? The answer was quite simple really. She needed to go back for her final year to wrap up her education and get out there to face reality.

It had finally hit her, almost as hard as a freight train, after Dumbledore died. She needed to get her head out of the sand and realize that S.P.E.W. was not going to take her anywhere in life. Now that she thought about it, the whole thing seemed worthless. Why would she want to spend her time trying to free house elves when they didn't want it to begin with, and when Voldemort was out there killing everyone within reach?

So Hermione had decided to do the most purposeful and obvious thing: she decided to become an Auror. She had decided to keep it a secret, after all, who could you trust anymore? The only person she had confided in was Harry Potter. He made the most sense, he wanted to become an Auror now more than ever. Dumbledore's death had wrought an alarming change in Harry. Sure, after everything he had ever been through, he still had somewhat of an innocent side left, but now that Dumbledore was gone, Harry had suddenly become much more of a man. He had shouldered more than she or Ron had ever dealt with, and took it in stride. Now Hermione could see what a great Auror he would be.

At the moment, Hermione was sitting by her window, staring out at the moonlit night, unable to go back to sleep after waking from a particularly disturbing nightmare. Ever since the term ended, Hermione had been unable to get a restful night's sleep. Her sleep was plagued by nightmares now; almost every night she lost another person she loved at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And every night, she would wake up sobbing or tangled in her sweat-soaked sheets and be unable to go back to sleep.

For the past few nights, Hermione had been dreaming of her parents' deaths. Each night, their deaths became a little more brutal. Hermione just chalked it up to her underlying fear that Voldemort would come after her family because she was close to Harry and because she was a Mudblood. After all, she'd been dreaming of all her friends' deaths for the past month, why should this be any different?

She looked over at her alarm clock. It was a little after three in the morning. She sighed and rubbed her itching, aching eyes. She wanted to sleep so bad, but she knew as soon as she drifted off, she would be plagued by somebody else's death.

She got up and went to her wardrobe. She pulled out her robe and some clean under things and headed into her bathroom.

"Might as well take a bloody shower, I can't sleep anyways," she muttered to herself as she turned the water on.

After a long, blasting hot shower, Hermione emerged forty-five minutes later clad in her robe and terribly tired. Knowing it was going to be another long, hot summer day, she rummaged through her wardrobe to find something appropriate for the day.

After six years of being known as the bookworm, Hermione had just about had enough of the whole routine. After Dumbledore died, she realized life was too short to go with the same routine constantly. So, as an extremely early birthday present from her parents, she had gone on a shopping spree and bought an entirely new wardrobe. She took all her old clothes to a second hand store and dumped them off.

Hermione flicked through all her clothes before pulling out a plaid mini schoolgirl skirt and her favorite black t-shirt. It was her favorite because, while form fitting, it had only a skinny strap going over her right shoulder, while the other side had a normal sleeve. She found it oddly fitting to her mood at the moment: grumpy, sick of life, the underlying fear of everyone dying, and extremely tired. Black just fit at the moment.

She was also secretly pleased that her physical appearance had taken a definite upturn. No longer was her hair bushy and lifeless. It had grown down past her shoulders and become more sleek and naturally wavy, not frizzy. Her figure had also blossomed. She was no longer shapeless, she was all curves, though very fit, as she had taken to running every night after dinner. She noticed every time she went out now that she was getting a lot more attention from guys.

'It's gotta be better than what it was before. Before I had nothing,' she had mused to herself one day after getting a particularly loud wolf whistle from a passing guy.

Thankfully her parents weren't with her at that particular moment.

Once the sun had fully risen, she waited in her room until she heard her mom go downstairs to start breakfast. As her mother and father were both dentists, they ate an early breakfast to get to the office early.

Hermione went over to her window and threw it open to let in the sweet morning summer air. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply to calm her frazzled nerves and to wake her up. When she opened her eyes, she had just enough time to jump aside before a handsome eagle owl came crashing into her head.

The owl landed with a soft _flump_ on her bed and ruffled its feathers importantly. Tied to its leg was a thick parchment envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest. She went over to it and untied the envelope and gave it a quick stroke on the head before it took off again.

She pulled out the usual thick sheets of parchment bearing the list of supplies and books she would need for the upcoming year. Just as she was about to put the envelope down, though, she noticed that there was something lumpy still in the bottom of it. She turned it upside down and out slid a shiny red and gold badge. She turned it over and her heart skipped a beat.

She was Head Girl.

Hermione gave a shriek of joy and collapsed onto her bed, laughing fit to burst. All that studying and sainthood stature had finally paid off.

'Too bad I've decided to be not such a nice girl anymore,' she thought wryly.

She set down the badge and picked up the usual letter from Professor McGonagall. She read through it, and when she reached the bottom, her heart skipped another beat. Where Professor McGonagall normally signed off as deputy headmistress now read _Headmistress._

Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes almost immediately and quickly brushed them away.

"Don't be stupid, you knew he was gone. What did you expect, things to stay the same?" she asked herself.

By this time, the smells of breakfast were starting to waft up the stairs into her bedroom, so Hermione picked up her new Head Girl badge and headed downstairs to tell her parents the news.

"Oh, sweetie, that's fantastic news!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed and turned away from the stove to hug her daughter.

"Well done, Hermione. We knew you had it in you," Mr. Granger said as he pulled Hermione into a hug after her mother had let go.

"Thanks Mum. Thanks Dad. I guess all that studying paid off, huh?"

"It will help you later on after school too. It can't hurt to be Head Girl if you want to become an Auror, can it?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I suppose not."

Breakfast was eaten quickly and then her parents were out the door, calling good byes to Hermione as they went.

She went about cleaning up the kitchen as she normally did after her parents left, thinking longingly of when she could go back to bed, and dreading the next nightmare. After she cleaned the kitchen up, she went back upstairs to brush out her hair and put some makeup on. She decided she would go into Diagon Alley today and pick up all her supplies for school. Her parents had left out the money she would need, and some extra in case she saw something she liked.

A half an hour later, Hermione emerged out into the bright sunshine of another hot summer day. She walked into downtown London to the Leaky Cauldron, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was.

She noted that the Leaky Cauldron was scarcely more busy than it was the last time she was in there last summer. People simply did not go out anymore for fear of an attack. When she walked through the archway to Diagon Alley, an almost deserted scene greeted her. The makeshift stalls were still along the cobblestone street, shifty looking characters were still selling the worthless rubbish that was supposed to protect you against dementor attacks and most curses and jinxes.

She glared at the shifty salesmen as they approached her with their wares.

"Like I would waste my money on that rubbish," she snapped at a particularly persistent bugger who was trying to save her 'pretty' neck from the Killing Curse.

The man stalked away, throwing her a filthy look as he went.

Hermione went about buying her books after a lengthy wait in Gringotts to exchange her money for the Wizarding currency. The salesman in Flourish and Blotts looked relieved to have a customer. He confided in Hermione that she was the first in a week, and though the school term was fast approaching, he said sadly that he really didn't expect business to pick up.

"It's awful. Business never dropped off this much the last time You-Know-Who was active. The hysteria is a tenfold worse, it's driving us all mad."

Hermione thanked him and went to Madam Malkin's robe shop to get some new robes, as she had grown at least six more inches since the term ended.

She decided, once she emerged from Madam Malkin's, that she really wanted an owl, and as she had bought everything she needed, and had plenty of money left over, she would walk down to the Magical Menagerie to buy one.

The shop was smelly, crowded with cages, noisy, and dark. She was just able to discern a cluttered counter in the back of the shop where she could pay. Hermione walked up and down the walls, looking for the owl that she wanted. There were many squawks and rustles of feathers as she prodded each of the birds awake, looking them over. Finally, she spotted a beautiful chestnut owl with large amber eyes.

"Why hello there, you're a pretty one, aren't you?" She asked the bird as she stroked its beak with her finger tip.

The owl hooted and closed its eyes lazily.

Hermione left Diagon Alley laden with packages and her pockets lighter than they were when she entered. She stopped for a bite to eat in the bar, where Tom the barman was more than willing to serve her, as the lack of customers was conspicuous once more.

She was just gathering up her packages again when a faint ringing reached her ears and echoed ominously in the silent bar. It was coming from her purse.

"Stupid phone," she grumbled as she dug for her cell phone.

"Hello?"

There was no answer.

"Hello?" she asked more persistently.

There was still no answer.

Frowning, she brought the phone before her eyes to look at the number. It was the number to her parents' dentist office.

Her heart began to race quickly. Her fear, always so close to the surface these days, increased by a thousand fold. She grabbed the table for support as she swayed precariously, still clutching the phone.

"Something wrong, miss?"

Hermione jumped. Tom had come to collect her dirty dishes.

"No," she gasped out. "Nothing at all."

She began to think quickly.

'Okay, there might not be anything wrong. Mum's called once before on accident and not said anything. But then, my number isn't exactly easy to confuse with anyone else's. So there must be something wrong. I'll just nip down to their office and see what they wanted. Mum probably just got interrupted by a patient or something, and had to hang up. That's why nobody answered me. That's got to be it. I'll just go down there and see what's up.'

She turned to see where Tom went. He was back behind the bar.

"Tom?" she called. "Tom!"

He turned to face her. "Yes miss?"

"Could I ask you a favor?"

"Certainly miss. What can I do for you?"

She gestured to her packages. "Could you keep these safe for me? I have to go somewhere at the moment, and I can't get home before I go. Can you keep them for me until I get back?"

Tom bowed. "Certainly miss. I'll care for the owl. And your things will be safe, mark my words. They'll be here when you get back."

"Thanks Tom!" she called as she left the bar quickly.

The sun had nearly set as she walked along the streets, busy with people returning home from work. For once, Hermione kept her head down and walked quickly, not looking at anyone or any of the windows of the shops.

Her steps beat the familiar path she had always walked to get to her parents' office. Whether a hundred or a thousand times, she had lost count, but her feet knew the way. She tried to concentrate on getting the horrible thoughts out of her head as she walked along, trying to ignore the ceaseless thumping of her heart and the quick breaths she was taking to try and steady her nerves.

She turned down the street that the office was on and began to walk quicker, ignoring her surroundings. That's when something caught her eye. Something huge and glaring in the sky over her parents' office.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as people continued to surge around her, apparently oblivious to the huge, glaring Dark Mark in the sky above them.

"Oh, my God," she breathed.

As she approached the building, her hand went to the waist band of her skirt, where she kept her wand stashed at all times now. She clutched its handle tightly, her hand sweating profusely.

The door was slightly ajar, as though someone had neglected to shut it tight. Hermione took a deep breath, looked up and down the street, which was still full of commuters, and kicked the door open.

A scene of total devastation greeted her. The waiting room was completely demolished. Chairs were upended and thrown about the room, magazines had been ripped to shreds and tossed around, the files of patients had been thrown about and stepped on, the couch had been shredded violently and stuffing was still flying through the air.

There were no bodies in the waiting room, a dark sign. Hermione whipped out her wand and crept further into the room, keeping as silent as possible. The door leading to the hallway that led to the back of the office was ajar. As she crept forward, the lights began to flicker. She jumped, but quickly composed herself.

None of the secretaries were in the file room. Hermione stuck her head through the glass and craned her neck to see over the counter. What she saw nearly made her throw up. The secretaries were lying motionless on the floor, all twisted in grotesque angles. The blonde's head was twisted viciously, as though her neck had been snapped. The brunette was lying on her back, her stomach ripped open. Blood coated the linoleum floor.

Hermione withdrew her head and leaned up against the wall, her eyes closed and her breathing labored. If the secretaries met their fates that way, what would her parents look like?

Anger filled her like poison. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, like copper and something else unidentifiably disgusting. She gripped her wand with renewed strength and stalked quietly over to the door leading to the back and kicked it wide open.

More ripped paper coated the floor in the hall as she crept forward. Each examining room she passed greeted her with no bodies, only chaos, as the furniture and tools in each were thrown around the room. In one room, the scraping tools were sticking out of the walls. Hermione stared at them for a moment before moving on.

She reached the end of the hall, where the door into her parents' private office was. She tried the knob. It was locked.

"_Alohomora,"_ she whispered, pointing her wand at the door.

It didn't budge when she tried to open it.

"Damn it! Open!" she screamed, kicking out at the door in her fury.

The door flew off the hinges and bounced off the wall inside the office.

She crept forward, clutching her wand so hard, her hand was going numb.

Blood was spattered on the walls, like a gruesome paint job. The desk was on its side, the chairs that normally stood in front of it were broken next to a wall, as though they had been thrown at the wall. The bookcases were stripped of the books, which were torn on the floor. Hermione felt only a moment of sadness for the wasted books before she stepped through the mess and saw them.

Her mother was lying on her side, her eyes wide and staring, her face frozen in a look of terror. Her neck was twisted savagely and she had multiple stabs wounds. Unless, were those from a curse?

Her father was lying on his stomach, face down, near her mother. He too bore multiple stab wounds in his back. Hermione's hands shook as she knelt to turn him over. This time, she couldn't hold it in. She gave a cry of horror as she took in her father's appearance.

His face had been slashed horribly, as though done by claws. His torso had also been slashed by claws, and as Hermione looked away, she thought she saw something that looked horribly like a bit of intestine hanging out of the gaping wounds.

Hermione looked around, like a lost child. That's when she saw it. Taped to the wall nearest her parents' bodies was a simple piece of parchment, written in what looked like red ink. She ripped it from the wall and read it.

_Dearest Mudblood-_

_Love what we've done to the place? Pity the secretaries had to die too. Such a pretty thing the blonde was. We had our fun in the end with her though. I daresay you like what we've done to your poor parents? Your father fought bravely, trying to defend your mother. He didn't last long though. Fenrir had the pleasure of finishing him. You'd best watch your back from now on Granger, you're next on our list. Pity we couldn't finish you off today too. Be warned, Mudblood. Even precious Harry Potter won't be able to save your neck this time. Remember what I say Granger. Watch your back._

_Best wishes,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

Hermione cried out again when she realized that what she had thought was red ink really was her parents' blood.

She stumbled from the office, her mind blank and her body cold and numb. She ran from the building, screaming.

"Help me! Somebody! Help me, please!"

People stared at her in alarm, as though she was crazy.

"There are people back there! Dead! Help me, somebody!"

She sank down in the middle of the sidewalk, sobbing uncontrollably as people skirted her, like she was a disease. She took no notice.

"Somebody just help me, please," she whispered through her sobs.

Hermione had no recollection of what happened next. She was lost in her haze of horror and loss as her mind showed her flashes of what she had just witnessed.

She never even bothered to question why she went from the middle of a London sidewalk to the middle of the kitchen in number twelve, Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Two**

Hermione was in a total state of shock as she sat at the long wooden table of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Someone pressed a mug of hot tea into her hands. She looked up and found herself staring at Nymphadora Tonks. She gave the distraught girl a pat on the back before sitting down next to her.

Shortly after arriving at Grimmauld Place, Hermione had been taken down to the kitchen, where a couple of Aurors were waiting to question her about what had happened. It had been horrible talking about what she had seen, and she found that when she got to the part about seeing her parents, she couldn't go on. She just hung her head and stared at the table while the Aurors stared at her silently. At that point, Tonks told them to leave her be.

Remus Lupin sat across the table from Hermione and Tonks. Lupin looked at Hermione, trying to imagine what she was going through. It was impossible, he decided. She was pale as death and her hands shook every time she brought the mug of tea to her mouth to drink. She looked like a lost child. She didn't know what to do with herself.

Hermione wouldn't look at either of her companions. She knew if she did, everything would hit her at once and she would lose the fragile stability that she had managed to build within the past few hours. She just wanted to be alone, but she was afraid of being alone for too long, afraid that if she was, someone would get her like they had her parents.

The three of them sat there silently for what seemed like hours. Tonks tried to persuade Hermione to eat something, but Hermione just shook her head and continued to stare miserably at the table. Lupin refilled her mug several times, but didn't get a response from her. He and Tonks exchanged looks on more than one occasion. More than anything, they wished that they could do something for Hermione. But they both knew that postponing the moment when Hermione would remember everything could destroy her.

They both started when Hermione suddenly pushed herself up away from the table and began walking towards the door.

"Hermione?" Tonks said questioningly.

"I'm tired," she said automatically, without any trace of emotion.

Tonks got up and led Hermione up the stairs and into the entrance hall. She watched Hermione as she moved and it struck her how very much like a zombie she was behaving. She stared straight ahead and walked without a trace of life, as though a part of her had died with her parents.

Hermione walked into the room she had shared with Ginny two years ago and sat down on the bed. She stared at the floor to avoid looking at Tonks.

"Hermione, if there's anything-" Tonks started, but got cut off.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Tonks hesitated, but decided it was best to just leave her alone for awhile. She closed the door after her and retreated back downstairs to the kitchen to talk with Lupin.

Hermione yanked her shoes off and curled into a ball on the bed, facing away from the door.

'Just let it all end. God, I would give anything to let it all end and let me out of this hell.' She thought.

She stared at the wall as the room grew steadily darker. She had spent most of the day in the kitchen, being interrogated by those Aurors. She had arrived at Grimmauld Place last night, after discovering her parents' bodies. She hadn't slept at all last night, but had sat in the kitchen with Tonks and Lupin.

For the first time in her life, Hermione felt like she was a hundred, a thousand years old. The sudden loss of her parents sat like a sack of bricks on her chest, and try as she might to shove the bricks off, she couldn't get them to budge. She felt as though she was drowning in a pool of misery. As Tonks had observed as she was walking up the stairs, she looked like she had lost a part of herself with her parents. That's what it felt like. It felt like she had lost half her heart when she saw her parent's bodies lying there in their office.

All her pain and her anguish felt like too much to handle. It hurt her so much to even think of her parents and how only yesterday morning, the biggest thing in the world was celebrating Hermione's Head Girl status. All at once, Hermione couldn't stand it anymore. She sat up, looking wildly around the room for something, anything to smash or something that would end it all and take away her pain.

But there was nothing. Something awoke in Hermione's brain, something that said Tonks and Lupin thought she would resort to physical pain to ease some of the mental pain she was feeling. They had taken away everything they thought she could use to hurt herself.

"Damn you both!" she screamed before falling back onto the bed, sobbing.

She had cried herself to sleep before night had really fallen.

Down in the kitchen, Tonks and Lupin sat discussing the past days' events.

"Why did we not suspect something like this would happen, Remus? How could we not see it coming? Now Hermione's got to face life without her parents, and to be quite honest, I don't think she can handle it."

"Of course she can handle it. She has to deal with it. This is a war, Tonks, we've all suffered. Look how Harry handled Sirius and everything."

"But Harry only knew Sirius for two years, Remus. How do we know she won't do something rash?"

"We made sure she wouldn't, remember? We took everything she could have possibly used to harm herself out of her room. She's strong, she will move on. It will take a long time, but she will move on."

Tonks made a disbelieving noise. "Do you honestly think she will ever be able to get the sight of her parents lying there out of her head. And those secretaries, my God, Remus, when the Aurors showed me pictures, I almost threw up. And I wasn't even there in person. Can you imagine what she's going through?"

Lupin thought for a moment. Tonks had a fair point. If he had seen Hermione's parents, it would have been different. Hell, it would have been a whole lot different if he was Hermione. Now that he thought about it, would he be able to handle his own parents being murdered like Hermione's were?

Tonks cleared her throat. "I thought Harry and the Weasleys should know about this, so I've written to them to tell them what happened. I'm sure they'll want to come and see her. Maybe if she sees Harry and the rest, she'll be okay."

Lupin nodded. "Good idea, but did you tell Harry to let us know if he was coming? Now that the protection his mother left him has ceased to operate now that he's of age, anything could happen."

"I wrote it in there."

"Good."

A few hundred miles away, Harry Potter paced his bedroom, his thoughts going every which way as he thought furiously. The letter from Tonks was clutched in his left hand as he walked around and around the room.

Hermione's parents had been murdered yesterday. Hermione was not doing good, she wasn't talking, she wasn't eating, and Tonks and Lupin thought she might do something to hurt herself. Tonks wrote that she thought it would be a good idea if she had some familiar faces around to help her get through it.

The _Daily Prophet_ sat on his desk and he stopped to snatch it up and look at it. Now that he thought about it, he thought he saw something in there about two murders in London by the Death Eaters. He flipped through the pages furiously, looking for the article. He stopped when he saw the tiny snippet at the bottom of the last page.

**Two Murdered in London**

_The Ministry of Magic confirmed the murders of two Muggles last evening as a new wave of attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns continues from the beginning of the week. The Ministry refused to comment on anything other than the Muggles were dentists (Muggle teeth cleaners) and that they had been killed in their London office, as well as the two secretaries that worked there._

"Of course, why didn't I see it before?" Harry muttered to himself as he threw the paper back on his desk.

He knew why he never saw it before. Who expected their best friend's parents to be murdered out of nowhere?

He knew he had to go to Hermione to be there for her. He dug through the mess on his desk to find two decently clean pieces of parchment. On the first, he scribbled a note to Ron, telling him he was going to Grimmauld Place and asking him to come as well. On the second, he replied to Tonks, who had asked him to write back immediately if he was coming.

He woke Hedwig, his snowy owl, and tied the note for Tonks to her leg. Hedwig took the other in her mouth.

"Now, go to Ron first, then go to Tonks, okay? Stay at the headquarters, I'll be there in a bit." Harry told her as he carried her over to the window.

He watched until she flew out of sight and then turned to the disaster that was his bedroom. Stuck at the Dursley's all summer wasn't what he had in mind. But he knew he had to stay until he turned seventeen, when the magical protection his mother had left on him ceased to work. He was only safe here until the magic ran out. It had been a month since his seventeenth birthday, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. He did notice, however, on his birthday, that Aunt Petunia looked rather worried, and instead of ignoring him as she normally did, she did give him a strangely significant look that told him that she understood what day it was and what could happen after the day had passed.

He had never before appreciated his mother's sister really before that. She understood what could happen now that he was seventeen, but she didn't kick him out. And she never breathed a word of it to Uncle Vernon. That was her sacrifice to Harry, as he looked at it. She could have kicked him out that day if she wanted to. He figured it was her way of repaying the debt she had to her sister. Keeping her only son safe at the cost of her family's safety.

Anyway, Harry roused himself from his thoughts and turned his attention to cleaning his room up and getting ready to leave for Grimmauld Place. He tracked down all his books and things and threw them in the trunk, which stood open at the end of his bed. He cleaned off his desk and threw the rubbish away. He cleaned out Hedwig's cage and shut the door on it. He wrapped his Firebolt up and placed it inside his trunk and looked around to see what else he had missed. With everything packed, he shut the lid on the trunk and locked it. Taking out his wand, he shrunk both the trunk and Hedwig's cage and put them in his pocket.

He looked around the room one last time before walking out and going downstairs. His aunt, uncle, and cousin were in the living room, watching television. Dudley and Uncle Vernon didn't look up when he entered, but Aunt Petunia did.

Harry cleared his throat to announce his presence to his uncle.

"What?" Uncle Vernon snapped, the vein in his temple already pulsing horribly.

"I've got to tell you all something," Harry snapped back.

"Well? Get on with it, you're interrupting our show," Uncle Vernon snarled.

"I'm leaving tonight to go to London."

"Why?" Uncle Vernon asked suspiciously, eyeing his nephew closely.

"My friend Hermione's parents were murdered yesterday, and I'm going to London to be there for her. I'll leave for school from there."

Aunt Petunia looked horrified at the mention of Hermione's parents' deaths, but didn't say anything.

"Good. Best be going then," his uncle said, already half absorbed with the television again.

"There's something else," Harry said hurriedly, before his uncle was lost again.

"What?"

"After tonight, I won't be coming back. Ever."

The Dursleys all looked up at him, as though they had never seen him before. Aunt Petunia's expression was hard to determine. Was she happy? Sad? Was she going to tell him to come back after his last year of school was up?

Uncle Vernon looked like Christmas had come four months early. "You won't be coming back?"

"No, after school's done, I'm going out there to fight."

"Fight, fight what?" Uncle Vernon muttered distractedly.

"Fight the git that murdered my mum and dad," Harry snapped.

Uncle Vernon looked up at him. "Once you're gone, you won't be endangering our family any longer. I knew I should have thrown you out when I had the chance. You've put us in danger for too long."

Harry temper rose. "You've been in more danger than you knew for the past month. Remember what Dumbledore said? He said once I turned seventeen, the magic my mum left on me would quit working. Voldemort could have come here any time since than and killed us all. But he hasn't. So once I'm gone, you can quit worrying. I won't bother to keep in touch."

With that, he stomped from the room and into the front hall. He had his hand on the door when someone laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his aunt standing there, looking, for the first time that Harry could remember, like a loving aunt.

"Before you go, I must tell you this. If you ever need a place to stay after this, any time at all, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to write or call. Vernon wouldn't be pleased, but after all, you're my sister's son, and I've kept you for this long. Just remember, Harry, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call or write. You'll always be welcome."

She hugged him briefly before turning to go back into the living room. Harry stood there, as though frozen, his brain working furiously to comprehend what just happened. Aunt Petunia told him to come back if he ever needed anything? She _hugged_ him?

"The world has gone bloody mad," he muttered, shaking his head and pulling the door open.

He walked out onto the front lawn, scanning the sky closely. Tonks had told him once she had received his reply that she would send up green sparks into the sky to let him know that all was safe and he could Disapparate without incident.

He waited only five minutes before he saw green sparks flare on the far horizon. He checked to see that Hedwig's cage and his trunk were still safely in his pocket before he Disapparated. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and thought of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He turned on the spot and felt that horrible compressed feeling. It lasted only seconds before he was heaving great gulps of air and opening his eyes to find himself in front of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

He didn't ever think he'd be back here again. He even swore he wouldn't come back here again. But here he was, and he would put aside his hatred of the place for two weeks while he was here for Hermione.

The door opened and Lupin stepped out on the dark porch, smiling at him.

"Hello, Harry."

"Professor. It's good to see you again," Harry said, walking up the steps and taking Lupin's hand, which he shook.

"Well, come on, inside, it's not safe to linger."

They walked into the darkened hall and down the stairs to the kitchen. Harry ignored the sinking in his stomach at being in the place that his godfather so hated and ignored all the memories the place was conjuring up again.

Tonks sat at the table, but stood when she saw Harry.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

"Hey Tonks. How've you been?"

"Pretty good. Always looking for something good to keep me busy, I suppose."

They all sat down.

"Ron's not here yet, I take it?" Harry asked, looking around and not seeing his redheaded friend.

"No, I sent him a note, but we haven't heard from him yet."

"I sent him a note too. I told him to come as soon as he could. He'll show up."

There was a few moments of silence.

"How's Hermione?" Harry asked seriously.

Tonks shook her head sadly. "Not so good. She won't talk, she won't eat, and, no joke intended, she looks dead herself."

Harry sat back in his chair and sighed. "Why did I not see this coming? Why did I not think that something like this could happen to my friends?"

"None of us saw it coming, Harry. Don't beat yourself up over it. No one could have known. But there is something we do know," Lupin said.

There was something in Lupin's voice that made Harry look up. "What?"

"Lucius Malfoy and Fenrir Greyback had something to do with it. Lucius left a note for Hermione near her parents' bodies. Fenrir killed Mr. Granger. He was slashed. We don't know who killed Mrs. Granger. But Malfoy and Greyback were involved."

Harry felt a sick jolt of fury surge through his body. "Greyback? That bastard who bit you?"

Lupin nodded sadly. "It's a good thing Hermione wasn't anywhere near the office yesterday. Fenrir has a sick pleasure in infecting young people. Hermione would have been bitten."

At that precise moment, the kitchen door opened and the Weasleys all walked in, minus Charlie, Bill, and the twins.

The next few minutes were chaos, but once everyone sat down at the table, things settled.

Harry sat back and let the adults talk and turned instead to his best friend, Ron, and his sister, Ginny. Harry felt a surge of sadness quite unattached to what he felt for Hermione. It was for Ginny. He loved her so much, but they couldn't be together, because Voldemort would go for her too and try to kill her. Ginny didn't think much of this, she was rather irritated when Harry told her they couldn't be together at the end of last term, but at the moment, it was the furthest thing from either of their minds.

"Have you seen her yet?" Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head. "I was just about to go up and see her."

Ron looked quite unlike himself. There was no usual wisecracks, no grinning, nothing. Harry suspected it was because Hermione had grown on him and Ron now felt the same way about Hermione as Harry did about Ginny.

"Let's go," Ron said, standing up.

The three of them trekked up the stairs quietly to the room where Ginny and Hermione stayed two years ago. Walking through the house brought back memories of Sirius, but Harry brushed them aside to deal with later. Right now, Hermione was the one to help.

Without knocking, Ginny softly opened the door and crept inside. The boys followed.

Hermione was curled into a ball facing away from the door. She made no movement or turned over to acknowledge that they were there. Harry could feel her pain and misery as they walked over to the bed.

Hermione felt the bed sink a few inches as someone sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Herms," a familiar voice said sadly.

Hermione opened her eyes and moved her head a fraction of an inch towards the owner of the voice. It was Ron. Harry and Ginny stood on either side of him.

"Ron," she quivered out.

She sat up and looked at him. His arms wrapped around her and that was all she needed. She buried herself into his embrace and wept. She wept for her parents, she wept for herself and her loss, she wept for all those who had been hurt by Voldemort. But she also wept because her friends were here with her and that made her feel a prickle of happiness in her lost heart.

Harry and Ginny sat down next to Ron and reached out to comfort Hermione. Nobody said anything, they were focused on getting Hermione through it all. After awhile, Hermione stopped crying and instead sat there miserably, not knowing what to do with herself.

"Did Lupin and Tonks tell you what happened?" Hermione said softly.

They all nodded.

"Did they tell you who did it?"

Harry nodded, but the others looked puzzled.

"What do you mean, who did it?" Ron asked.

Hermione looked up at him with watery eyes. "It was Lucius Malfoy and Fenrir Greyback. They killed my parents. Lucius left a note in my parents' blood. He told me to watch my back, because Harry couldn't save me this time, and I was next in line to get the axe. I'm the next murder victim."

Ginny clapped a hand to her mouth while Hermione continued to sit there miserably. The pain was still too much for her, and she couldn't find a way to deal with it. Even the faces of her best friends couldn't wake her up from her nightmare.

Harry suddenly took charge. "Come on, Hermione, we're going downstairs to eat something. Tonks and Lupin say you haven't eaten anything in ages, and if you don't eat, you'll only feel more miserable. And I don't want to hear excuses," he added sternly as Hermione opened her mouth.

"Fine," she said, resigned to being thrust out there in the cruel and painful world again.

She knew if she went into the kitchen, she would be watched, but maybe, just maybe, she could sneak something back up to her room to help her later on. She could ease her pain without being watched. But what to do with Ginny?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Three**

Several hundred miles away, Draco Malfoy paced around his bedroom in his family's manor. He was waiting for a summons from his father to join him and the other Death Eaters for an important meeting. Draco was to get his next assignment.

After leaving school abruptly near the end of the last term, Draco wasn't so sure he was ready for what the Dark Lord had in store for him this time. He was supposed to kill Dumbledore, but lost his nerve and let Snape take all the glory instead.

Since the end of the last term, his father had been broken free from Azkaban and had once again taken his spot as Voldemort's right hand man. If Snape had thought that would be his position, he was sadly mistaken. He had ratted Draco out as soon as he clapped eyes on Lucius again, and because of the bastard, Draco had been punished most severely. He still had the welts on his back, which were far from healing.

For some miraculous reason, he had received the usual Hogwarts letter a few days ago, and to his great surprise, he had been made Head Boy. Either they all were cracking up over there, or they had never taken Potter seriously when he told them several times that Draco was a Death Eater.

Yes, Draco knew about all of that. He knew that Potter suspected him ever since their brief meeting in Diagon Alley last summer when Draco was accompanied by his mother Narcissa. Draco had made the mistake of clapping a hand to his left arm where he was branded when that stupid woman, Madam Malkin, had tried to hem up the sleeve of his new dress robes.

Of course, Potter had to be too damn smart for his own good.

Draco wondered what his master had in store for him this time. He had been most displeased with Draco when he failed to kill Dumbledore, but on the other hand, was surprised that he had even managed to fix that Vanishing cabinet that allowed Hogwarts to be invaded by several Death Eaters on the night of Dumbledore's murder.

Draco had informed his father of his new Head Boy status as soon as he saw him again. Lucius had been overjoyed for some bizarre reason, and Draco had a feeling his next assignment would have something to do with it. He had a nasty feeling about it, as he really didn't want to be a Death Eater in the first place. He had been thrust out into the Dark world when his father had stupidly landed himself in Azkaban at the end of his fifth year.

"Damn all this, just damn it all to hell," Draco muttered to himself as he began to feel the burning on his arm that meant the Death Eaters were ready for him.

He spun on the spot to Disapparate to his father.

Once that awful constricting feeling wore off, Draco straightened up and looked around. The Riddle mansion. Of course, the only damn place the stupid gits could ever think of meeting at.

"Draco, how nice of you to join us," Lucius Malfoy's voice rang out.

Draco turned towards his father and walked over to join the circle of Death Eaters.

"I am here and ready to fulfill my duties," Draco declared, though on the inside, he wanted to tell them all to go screw themselves.

"Good, good. I daresay you'll enjoy this little task we've set you to. Now that the Grangers have been eliminated, it's time to get rid of that meddlesome daughter and Potter hero worshiper," Lucius stated.

Draco's head snapped up. "Grangers? Daughter? Father, what are you saying?"

Lucius's lip curled. "Tut, tut, Draco, haven't you figured it out yet? Fenrir and I had the pleasure of meeting the Grangers yesterday afternoon. Fenrir deleted Mr. Granger, and I had a little fun with Mrs. Granger. This is where you come in. That Mudblood daughter of theirs has been made Head Girl this year. And since both Head Boy and Head Girl have to share a common dormitory, you can help us out by killing her too. Convenient, no?"

"Wow, okay, hold on here. How did we find out that Mudblood was Head Girl? Severus is no longer at Hogwarts," Draco pointed out.

The Death Eaters laughed.

"Doesn't miss a trick, does he? No, I suppose I haven't told you yet. We've recruited a new one to take over as spy in Hogwarts. She's been given the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. Of course, we couldn't brand her with the Mark, but she can be trusted completely. She swore her allegiance to us and has promised to serve dutifully or she'd kill herself. Lucky we found her, eh?"

Draco's heart sank. He didn't kill Dumbledore last year because he didn't have the guts or the nerve. Snape took all the glory, and Draco was in the worst of graces for a while there while Voldemort decided what to do with him. He should have been dead, but supposedly due to some of his father's smooth talking, he was spared from death after all.

"Yeah, yeah, real great that we found her. Couldn't have cost us everything, right?" Draco stammered out.

The Death Eaters laughed again.

"Well, it could have ruined a lot. But in the end, it all comes down to you. Now, you won't disappoint us this time, will you, Draco? You'll be the son I always thought you were and you'll kill Granger like a good, faithful servant, won't you? Because you know what could happen this time, and I won't bail you out of trouble this time."

Draco gulped. This was it. Either he kill Granger, or he dies. Why did life have to be so damn complicated? Why did he have to be cursed with a stupid bastard like this for a father?

"Yes, Father. I will kill Granger. It'll be tricky, but I'll get her," Draco promised.

The Death Eaters roared their approval while Draco managed a weak smile. Lucius clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a rare smile. Inside, Draco was heaving in fear. If he couldn't kill Dumbledore, how the hell was he supposed to kill Granger?

Back at Grimmauld Place, the others had managed to coax Hermione out of her bedroom and back down into the kitchen for some food. They all privately agreed not to bring up any mention of her parents unless she brought it up first. They knew she could cope with it on her own terms as long as she was left well enough alone until she was ready to talk to someone about what happened.

"I don't know what to do to make her feel better, do you?" Ron muttered to Harry as they pulled out plates and cutlery for the table.

"No, just give her time. She'll come to us when she's ready. She doesn't look good, does she?" Harry muttered back, eyeing Hermione from his position behind her.

Ron shook his head. "She just needs a few days, a damn good amount of sleep, and some food. She'll be okay. She's our Hermione, she's got to be okay. What would we do without her?"

Harry didn't answer him, but he thought about what they would possibly be like if they didn't have Hermione with them. They had been friends through all the terrible things that happened. She was like a sister to Harry now, and he couldn't imagine what it would be like without the old Hermione back.

He shook his head to clear it of the nasty thoughts of life without Hermione and went to set the table with the load of plates he was holding.

Hermione sat at the table, watching everyone move around her, getting dinner ready. Surprisingly, Lupin was a spanking good cook and was pulling together something he said was his specialty. What it was, Hermione didn't want to know, as she often heard horror stories about the food bachelors made when it was just them to cook for and no one else to criticize their cooking.

While pretending to be interested in what everyone was doing, she was also plotting how to get Ginny out of her room for the next two weeks and to figure out how she could smuggle something back upstairs with her to help her ease her pain. She couldn't very well do it in front of everyone, as they'd stop her before she could even do anything.

She seized her chance when Ron came past, laying out silverware, not paying attention to what he was doing as he was busy teasing Ginny about something. He threw down a knife and fork at Hermione's place and moved on, not noticing what he was doing.

Hermione looked around, making sure no one was watching. Lupin and Tonks were laughing about something near the fire as Lupin stoked the fire, Harry was digging around in the pantry for something, and Ginny was busy yelling at Ron while he was still laying out the silverware. Hermione grabbed the knife off the table and wrapped it in a napkin before tucking it into the waistband of her skirt and pulling her shirt down to conceal it.

"Ron, I think you forgot my knife," Hermione said quietly as she tugged on his sleeve.

"I-what? Oh, sorry Herms, here you go," he said, not taking his eyes off his sister as he tossed another knife down.

'You are a rotten person Hermione, but you'll feel so much better once you use that thing,' she thought, feeling the lump that was the napkin against her skin.

The truth of it all was, in spite of the fact that her brain was working well enough to connive such a plan at getting a sharp, pointing object past the others, the rest of the brain that wasn't planning that out was drowning in the sorrow of her parents' deaths. She put up a good show on the outside, but inside, she was ready to throw herself out a window or something so that she could be with her parents again. The thought of moving on and living life without them was almost unbearable, and Hermione was constantly battling the impulse to run from Grimmauld Place and never turn back, just keep running to escape everything.

But she couldn't do that. She needed to finish her schooling so that she could join Harry and the others out there to end Voldemort and his followers. How they were going to do that was beyond her comprehension, but if Harry knew what to do, without Dumbledore here to help them, then she would trust Harry and follow him willingly into battle.

"Hermione, you doing okay?" Ginny asked as she sat down next to her.

Hermione jumped a little, being lost in her thoughts, but quickly recovered. "Yeah, I'm getting there. Listen, I kinda want to be alone for awhile, so you wouldn't mind sleeping in Fred and George's old room, would you? I just kinda need some space of my own for awhile until I get over this. Is that okay?"

Ginny looked slightly confused for a moment, but the look quickly vanished as she hastened to comply.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. I understand. Take all the time you need. Just, you know where to find me if you need anything, right?"

Hermione nodded.

'You sick, conniving bitch,' a voice in her head said.

'Shut up. I can't deal with this shit anymore. Leave me alone,' she told it.

'They're your friends. They came to help you through this, not to be stabbed in the back while you go off and slit your damn wrists,' the voice accused her.

'Look, I don't have to justify anything to you. Why am I even talking to a damn voice inside my head?' She screamed silently at it as she shook her head to shut it up.

Dinner passed without incident. Everyone was rather subdued, and any laughter that rang out was almost unnatural. Everyone was treading carefully around Hermione at the moment, afraid to say or do something that would set her off. But they didn't know that inside, she was rather calm and cool, knowing that she was about to ease her pain once she went upstairs.

Once she had finished, she pushed her plate away and stood up.

"I think I'll go take a shower and go get some sleep," she told them as they looked up at her.

"Get some sleep, Herms, you'll feel better," Ron said as she left the kitchen to find the peace and quiet of the dark, empty entrance hall.

She leaned against the wall for a second, closing her eyes. Everything threatened to engulf her again, something she had been fighting against for the past day. She didn't want to lose that fragile stability, so it made perfect sense that she could maintain it by letting go of some of her pain.

She bolted upstairs as quietly as she could and locked the door to her bedroom once she had reached it. She seemed to be seized by a sudden, maniacal state of mind. She felt reckless, more so than she did over the summer. This state of mind wasn't the sensible recklessness that she had felt over the summer, this was a crazed, not-in-her-right-mind state.

She pulled the napkin from her waistband and unwrapped the knife. She checked to see that the door was indeed locked and walked slowly over to her bed and sat down on the edge. She held the knife up and looked at it. What little light in the room made it gleam dangerously. Her heart began to beat faster, but her mind still stayed relatively calm.

She held out her arm, eyeing it thoughtfully. Now, how far did she want to go? Not enough to kill herself, although she had thought about it earlier. She knew she didn't really want to end it all and join her parents in death. She had friends and school to live for. But what were they compared to the loving stability that her parents had always offered her?

Stability. Love. Her parents. Their faces flashed before her eyes. Her father, his face slashed horribly. Her mother, her neck snapped and her body lying broken on the floor. The note written in their blood.

_Watch your back, Granger. Even Potter won't be able to save your neck this time._

Hermione suppressed a whimper. "No, no, stop, just make it stop."

'It'll all stop if you just make a little mark. It'll all go away, just do it. One little mark. The pain will stop,' another voice in her head said.

Tears building in her eyes, she began to rock back and forth. Her parents were lying on the floor in front of her, the walls were coated in blood, Lucius Malfoy was laughing at her, and Greyback was advancing on her, his teeth bared.

She was falling through a dark tunnel, but her parents were still there and Malfoy was still laughing. Greyback was coming closer. . .closer. . .closer yet. . .

She brought the knife down and ran it across her wrist. The smallest imaginable line appeared, a small line of red barely visible.

Her parents were calling out to her. Greyback was breathing down her neck, Malfoy was writing the note in her blood.

_Ready to die, Granger?_

"NOOOOOOO! NOOOOO! MAKE IT STOP! GO AWAY!" She screamed as she ran the blade across her skin again.

The cut went deeper and she began to bleed harder, a small stream running down her arm and dripping gently onto the floor.

She wanted out, she wanted it to end. But before she could do anything more, the world began to spin and she stumbled off the bed and ran into a wall, clawing for escape as the blood continued to run from her cut.

She slumped down the wall in a dark corner away from the door. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, a distant noise to her as she rocked back and forth, whimpering, wanting her parents to vanish from the floor in front of her and for Greyback to quit breathing down her neck and for Malfoy to stop that annoying scratching with the quill, writing in her own blood.

The doorknob jiggled. Someone was trying to get in.

"Hermione! Open the door! Hermione! Come on, let me in, tell me what's wrong! Hermione!"

But Hermione couldn't hear them. Greyback was talking to her.

"_I'll enjoy this one. I had the pleasure of meeting your father, girl. He fought bravely, but he wasted time trying to save your mother. I did a good job on him, didn't I? I think I'll make you look as good. Won't that be fun? Oh yes, such a pretty thing you are, I think we'll take care of your face first. . ."_

He came towards her, his hands outstretched, his claws ready to slash her to pieces. . .

"GET AWAY FROM ME! NOOOOO! GO AWAY! STOP!"

But the claws connected with her face. She screamed murderously, clawing at her face, trying to get away from Greyback.

"GO AWAY! STOP! STOP! YOU'RE HURTING ME! MAKE IT STOP! SOMEBODY! HELP ME!"

Still clawing at her face, and screaming, she started sobbing uncontrollably. But Greyback wouldn't leave her alone.

The door burst open magically. Footsteps pounded into the room, then stopped. They were looking for her.

"Nooooo, nooooo, please, I don't want to die, go away, leave me alone," she moaned as her arm continued to bleed.

Arms went around her, shaking her.

"Hermione, Hermione, it's me, it's okay. Hermione, listen to me," a voice said.

A hand went to her cut, trying to stem the blood flow.

"Hermione, what happened to your face? What happened Herms? Talk to me," the voice asked gently.

She started shaking, rocking back and forth. She didn't want to talk. Talking didn't solve anything. They would just kill her in the end. Pretend to be nice, then stab you in the back and end it all.

"Tonks! Remus! Get in here! Quick!"

The arms went around her tighter, trying to get Hermione back to reality. But it was no use. She was gone. At least, in her mind, she was gone, lost in the pain and the maniacal laughing that was coming from one Lucius Malfoy and one Fenrir Greyback.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Four**

Harry shook Hermione gently, trying to get that blank, senseless stare out of her eyes, but it was no use. Wherever Hermione was, she wasn't there. And Harry had a sinking feeling that she wouldn't be anywhere close for awhile.

Tonks and Lupin came pounding up the stairs, closely followed by Ginny and Ron and Mrs. Weasley. When Mrs. Weasley saw Hermione, she gave a shriek and positively bounded into the room, literally flinging Harry aside as she took in Hermione's appearance.

Hermione had scratch marks all over her face from where she clawed herself, seeing it in her mind's eye as Greyback's work. Her arm was coated in blood, and the cut was deep, though not deep enough to be fatal.

"Hermione, sweetie, talk to me. Hermione? Come on, talk to me, wake up," Mrs. Weasley coaxed, shaking her softly.

Hermione didn't move or blink. She just sat there, limp and lifeless.

Lupin stepped in and peered straight into her eyes. He brought a hand before her eyes and snapped his fingers. There was no reaction.

He turned to Tonks. "Go into the kitchen and bring me the first aid kit. She needs something on this cut."

Tonks sprinted out of the room.

Lupin turned back to Hermione and in one movement, lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed, setting her down carefully.

Tonks came careening back into the room, carrying a metal tin. Lupin took it from her and opened it before pulling out a bottle of some purple liquid, which he dabbed onto a cotton swab and began running it over Hermione's wound.

Hermione flinched, but seemed no closer to herself than before.

"Here," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling out her wand. "_Tergeo!"_

The drying blood disappeared from her arm.

Lupin pulled out his wand and muttered something under his breath. Instantly, the deep cut sealed itself, leaving only a faint line that would heal up as a scar.

"Molly, I'm not as good with these healing charms as you. I'd do the scratches on her face, but I think you'd leave less scarring."

Mrs. Weasley stepped around Lupin to sit down next to Hermione on the bed. She gave a small sniff before taking the purple liquid and the cotton swabs from Lupin and began cleaning off Hermione's face.

The others stood back in silence. Ginny was crying quietly, while Harry held her close. Ron had that white, pasty look about him again.

Lupin moved back to stand next to Tonks. She looked shocked and frightened.

"What's wrong with her, Remus? Why didn't we see this?"

Lupin took up her hand and held it close to his heart. "I don't know what's wrong with her, but I don't think it's normal. I have my suspicions, but I won't say anything just yet. Give me some time to figure it out, and I'll tell you as soon as I do. She'll be okay. She'll snap out of this. . .trance thing she's in. She will, you just watch."

Three days went by, and still there was no change in Hermione. She wouldn't eat anything, when she slept, she moaned and cried, often waking up sobbing, but wouldn't respond to the others when they tried calling her name or talking to her. They all took turns watching her, making sure she couldn't do anything like sneak out of her room and do some more damage. Someone watched over her during the day, and then someone else would take over at night.

Another three days went past. Still, there was no change. They all started to worry slightly more than they already were. They were to return to Hogwarts in a little over a week. What if she didn't wake up from this trance-like state she was in? What would Harry and Ron and Ginny do without her? And more importantly, what would the school do without the Head Girl?

The three teens noticed over the past week that Lupin had been disappearing to the library in the house more often than not, oftentimes spending the whole day there, and sometimes well into the night. He had started going off food as well, but Harry knew it was something to do with Hermione's condition, and not due to some bizarre circumstance.

One morning, two days before they were due back to school, Lupin came into the kitchen looking utterly exhausted. He collapsed at the table and pulled every bit of food within reach towards him and began eating with gusto. He gave no explanation to his behavior in the least, that is, until Tonks decided to ask him what was going on.

"Erm, Remus? Um, are you okay?"

Lupin looked up from the scrambled eggs he was shoveling in. "I might have found something as to why Hermione's acting the way she is. I've been up all night looking for more information. Give me another few hours, and I think I should be able to crack it."

The others looked up. Mrs. Weasley paused, a bagel in her mouth and bitten into. Harry froze with his goblet of pumpkin juice halfway to his mouth. Ron looked perplexed.

"You think it's a spell or something?" he inquired curiously.

Lupin gave a shrug. "Can't say more about it until I get a few more hours in of research. I've nearly got it cracked, but just to be on the safe side, I've got to get back up there and look up something. I'll tell you all when I've figured it out. I'm going back up."

Without further ado, he grabbed his goblet of pumpkin juice and charged back upstairs to the library. The others looked taken aback for a moment, but went back to their breakfasts, slightly more cheerful than they were a few minutes ago.

Tonks was shaking her head. "The man needs to learn where to draw the bloody line. Honestly, you'd think he'd been working like this all his life! There are other things to take into consideration, like showering. I don't think he's had one in about two days. Couldn't you tell?"

Ron caught her eye and grinned. Everyone else cracked up as they went about finishing their food and clearing up the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley turned halfway through washing up some breakfast dishes.

"You three, Fred and George sent a note wanting to know how Hermione was doing. I haven't written them back yet, so if you will, someone please write them back and fill them in on what's happening."

Ginny stood up. "I'll do it. Do you need any help in here?"

Mrs. Weasley excused her, then turned to the other two.

"I hate to ask this boys, but I haven't done any school shopping whatsoever. Do you think you could go to Diagon Alley today for me and get all the supplies? I've arranged for Hagrid to meet up with you in the Leaky Cauldron."

Ron and Harry looked at each other. They hated to leave Hermione, but. . .

"We'll go. Just do us a favor, send something along if Lupin figures out what's wrong with Hermione, won't you?" Ron asked his mother.

"Of course I will, she's your best friend, what do you think I would do? Leave you out to dry? I should think not. Now, go upstairs and get dressed. And Harry, I'm to tell you from Minerva McGonagall, you're still to carry your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times, just in case. Got that?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

The boys trudged upstairs and got dressed. Harry dug out his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and stowed it in his jacket pocket.

"Ready?" He asked Ron.

"Let's go," he said.

They both peeked in on Hermione before they went downstairs. Tonks was sitting with her, attempting to have a normal, entirely one-sided conversation.

"We're going to Diagon Alley to meet Hagrid for some shopping. Send us a word if there's any change," Ron told her.

Tonks nodded before carrying on her conversation with Hermione.

The boys walked downstairs and met Mrs. Weasley at the door.

"Now, I want both of you to keep your heads down and your eyes open. Got that? No mischief today. You're to go to Diagon Alley, get three sets of everything for yourselves and Ginny's things as well. I don't want any dallying or shortcuts, and I especially don't want you wandering off without Hagrid. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," they mumbled.

"Good." Mrs. Weasley said as stood on tiptoe to reach both of them and give them both a kiss on the cheek.

Harry and Ron walked out into the feeble summer sunlight. The day was overcast; clouds kept drifting over and casting them in shadow. It looked like rain more than anything, though the sun was trying to put up a decent fight.

"Let's go," Ron said before twisting away from Harry.

Harry did the same, and a few moments later, had reappeared outside the Leaky Cauldron. They stuck their hands in their pockets, grasping their wands, just as a precaution. The sign above them creaked in the light summer breeze.

They walked in and looked around for a sign of life. None was to be found, other than Tom, the barkeeper, behind the counter.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. Good to see you chaps again. Can I help you with anything today?"

"No, thanks, Tom. We're just passing through, got to get on with school shopping. We'll see you later," Harry excused themselves as they walked towards the back door.

They opened the door and found themselves face to face with Hagrid.

"Good ter see yeh, mates," Hagrid said, ruffling their hair.

"Same to you, Hagrid," Ron said, wincing as Hagrid accidently cuffed him round the head.

"Well, come on, we ain't got all day. Got ter get you lads in and out, that was the agreement," Hagrid said, tapping the brick wall in front of them.

The archway appeared and they walked through, ignoring the cries of the shifty salesmen as they stepped through.

They certainly wasted no time at all getting through the shopping. As they had got new robes last summer, they were not inclined to go into Madam Malkin's. Ron pulled out the wad of school lists he carried in his pocket and consulted it.

"Right, well, we need to go to Flourish and Blotts, the apothecary, and I want to get Pigwidgeon another box of Owl Treats, it's about the only thing that will shut him up anymore," he said, running a finger down the list.

With Hagrid shuffling them from shop to shop, they managed to get the shopping done in next to no time. They hardly saw anyone they knew, although Harry did catch a glimpse of Cho Chang darting into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Well, have yeh got everything on yer lists?" Hagrid asked after they emerged from the Magical Menagerie.

"Think so, yeah," Ron said, again consulting the lists.

"I think we've got it all, Ron," Harry said from behind the pile of bags he was carrying.

Ron wasn't carrying anything.

"Right, let's go back ter the pub then," Hagrid said decisively.

He herded them back through the archway and into the pub again. Tom looked up when he heard them shuffle in.

"Oh, Mr. Potter!"

Harry rearranged some of the packages he was carrying so he could see Tom properly.

"Yeah Tom?"

"I believe you are friends with that Miss Granger, right?"

"Yes. What about her?"

"She was in here a few days ago, she bought all her supplies, well, she left them here for me to look after, and she said she couldn't get home first. Well, she said she'd come back, and she never did. So I was only thinking that maybe you could take them for her."

"Sure thing, Tom," Ron said, stepping over to the bar to pick up all of Hermione's packages.

Somehow they managed to Disapparate back to Grimmauld Place laden with everything they were carrying. When they reappeared in front of number twelve, they dropped a few packages on the ground and spent a good ten minutes tracking everything down that had fallen out of the bags.

"That is the last, I repeat, the _last_ time I go shopping for three people's school lists. If I ever get recruited to do this again, shoot me," Ron moaned as they stumbled into number twelve.

Mrs. Weasley appeared up from the kitchen as they dropped everything.

"Oh good, you're back. I was just starting to worry. Just leave everything there, we'll sort it out later. Come down and have some supper."

They walked into the kitchen to much excitement. Ginny and Tonks were sitting next to Lupin, apparently trying to coax him into something.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as they sat down.

"Remus has just figured out what's wrong with Hermione." Tonks said.

"And?" Ron said eagerly.

Everyone sat down at the table and turned to face Lupin.

"I had a feeling about what was wrong with her all along. I'm just glad that we've got the library upstairs to help us out. Otherwise I wouldn't have never found out as much as I did," Lupin started to explain.

"But you _did_ figure it out, right?" Ginny asked impatiently.

"Yes, I did. It involves an extremely ancient, and extremely complex spell that only one so deeply immersed in the Dark Arts would know about. It's my belief that Lucius put the curse on the note he left for Hermione so that the moment she touched it, it would activate."

"So what is it?" Tonks asked.

"It is called _Atrox Preteritus._ The Horror of the Past curse."

"But what's it supposed to do?" Harry asked, confused.

"It's deeply involved. The curse can be cast upon a single object or the person in question. In this case, it was the note. It's supposed to cause the person it's cast on to relive the very worst moment in his or her life. In Hermione's case, it's her parents' deaths. It's also supposed to make the pain of the loss or situation too much to bear, so the victim of the curse feels obligated to hurt his or her self. Eventually, the curse becomes so involved, and the victim so immersed in the pain of reliving their worst moment, that either they will kill themselves, or die of depression. Or, in Hermione's case, she has shut herself off to the outside world. She refuses to deal with it, only because she is forced to relive it all over again."

"Oh, is that all?" Ron said, exasperated.

"Is there any way to stop it?" Mrs. Weasley asked, worried.

"We must keep talking to her. Let her know that she isn't alone in all this. In the meantime, there is a slight complication."

"What?" They all asked in unison.

"The curse also has a nasty habit of planting a voice inside the victim's head. Telling them to harm themselves. It's not necessarily Lucius's voice speaking to her, but it is a voice nonetheless, and it does tell her to hurt herself to get rid of the pain."

"Oh, that's just swell. So how the hell are we supposed to get her out of this one?" Ginny burst out.

"Ginny, language!" Mrs. Weasley reprimanded.

"Yeah, sorry Mum. Anyways, how are we supposed to get her out of this one?"

Lupin looked thoughtful. "From what I've read, the only true way that she could overcome this is by finding the one person that will complete her life. You see, the curse also makes you feel as though you've lost half your soul, so by the one person that will complete their life, they mean your soul mate."

Harry snorted in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me."

Lupin looked up. "No, not kidding. She will snap out of this trance like thing she's in, but she will be very depressed for a long time, until she finds that one person."

"Is there anything she can take for the depression?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking concerned.

"I believe there is a potion made now that is supposed to alleviate the worst symptoms of depression. The market is booming for one, after all," Lupin said, with a twitch of a smile.

"Where do you get it?" Ron asked.

"It is nearly impossible to find, but I think, with Tonks' connections with the Ministry, we should be able to get a hold of some."

Tonks looked up. "I take it you want me to go tonight?"

"The sooner the better, she could wake up at any time. And with the kids due back at Hogwarts the day after tomorrow, she needs it now. It might even wake her up from this trance if we give it to her now. And we all know how much she wanted to be Head Girl. She was looking forward to her last year at school. We need her back now." Lupin said.

Tonks stood up. "The sooner, the better then."

She disappeared up the stairs.

"You guys are going to have to keep a close watch on her once you get back to Hogwarts, you know," Lupin said after a few minutes of silence.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Until she finds that one person, she's going to try everything in her power to hurt herself. You must make sure she gets no extra opportunities at school. It could prove disastrous."

"Like all this hell hasn't already been," Ron mumbled.

Harry and Ginny nodded. What they wouldn't give to have Hermione back and normal again. They missed her terribly. They just wanted things to go back to the way they were before Voldemort came out into the open again.

"I should go up now. It's my night to watch over her," Ginny said miserably, pushing herself up from the table.

The misery and pain Hermione was feeling was slowly spreading through the house, infecting them all. And until _Atrox Preteritus_ was lifted, life as they knew it was going to prove difficult. For everyone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Five**

The day had come: Draco was due to go back to Hogwarts today. He awoke with the feeling of impending doom growing in his gut, knowing full well what could happen once he went back to the hated place.

It wasn't just that he hated the school and all that it stood for. He knew exactly what could happen once he went back. To be perfectly honest, he wouldn't have been surprised in the least if someone didn't kill him as soon as he set foot inside the grounds.

Draco wanted to go back to school to finish his education. He knew that much. And he also knew that if he didn't, he'd be royally screwed. He knew that there was a good chance that Harry Potter, the

so-called 'Chosen One,' could defeat Voldemort at any time in the near future, especially now that Dumbledore, his last sole protector, was gone. And if Draco didn't have an education to fall back on if Voldemort fell, he would have nothing to advance in the world. The Ministry wouldn't take him, not without his N.E.W.T.s, which were needed for damn near everything now. Sure, Draco had money, but it could only take him so far in the world. Money couldn't buy happiness, that much Draco was sure of. He had tried before, and failed. Without being able to buy happiness, what could he buy to make it in the world?

Draco got up and went about cleaning his room, packing his trunk as he went. He tracked down his robes and new school supplies and threw them unceremoniously into the trunk, on top of his carefully placed Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Once he was sure he was all packed, he closed the lid to the trunk and sealed it with a charm to ensure nobody would be inspecting it any time soon.

He looked around his room and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. He was so incredibly tired of his life. He was tired of putting up a good front for his father and the Death Eaters, he was tired of trying to keep up the constant wall in his mind to keep Voldemort from seeing his fear and unwillingness to comply to the Dark Arts, he was tired of the endless, sleepless nights that he had been forced to endure ever since he took up his place beside his father and swore to murder for the greater good of the Wizarding world.

He decided that he would take a shower and attempt to wash away all his misery for the moment. A fat chance of that happening, but he needed a temporary fix, as he knew he was about to have the day from hell, and besides, his back was bloody killing him.

Hot water was about the only thing that helped alleviate the pain in his back anymore. He had tried everything, but the hexes and curses that his father and Voldemort had used on him were powerful, had no counter curses for pain. They had left deep welts in his back, and instead of healing properly, the scabs would occasionally break open and bleed all over again. Draco was pretty sure that they would remain that way for a long time. At least, until Voldemort was defeated.

Draco stepped into the shower and winced at the fresh wave of pain that coursed through his upper body before settling into a sort of numb, unfeeling state. He let the water beat down on his back, enjoying the temporary reprieve from the pain. The only thing he could possibly enjoy at the moment was the fact that he was Head Boy, and that, like it or not, he was going back to the only place that had ever really felt like home.

Now, as for the whole Granger business.

"To kill, or not to kill, that is the question," Draco muttered to himself, contemplating the whole affair.

Well, if he killed her, his father and Voldemort would be incredibly happy with him, something that didn't particularly make him feel much better. On the other hand, he could decide not to kill her and end up dead himself.

"Does it really matter anymore? Wouldn't I be better off that way?" He asked himself.

He got out of the shower with his mind buzzing with more questions than it did when he got in. He was still in two minds about killing Granger, and it didn't help that his mind was buzzing with possible scenarios as to what his fellow classmates could do to him once they saw him again.

"What I wouldn't give to be normal, just to be fucking normal for two seconds.," he cursed.

He went downstairs into the dining room, where he would proceed to eat a lonely breakfast by himself, as his father was away on 'business' and his mother preferred to stay in bed until at least noon these days.

When the family house elf came in to collect his dishes, he retreated back upstairs to mull over things and decide just how far he was willing to go for his father's sake.

The morning dawned grey and chill on Grimmauld Place, where everyone was still sound asleep, dawn having only just broken. All was quiet, everyone in their respective bedrooms, dreaming peacefully. All, that is, except for Hermione. Ginny had been keeping watch over her again, making sure she wouldn't do anything to hurt herself again. All through the night, Hermione had been sleeping badly. She would toss and turn endlessly, moaning and crying out every so often.

Ginny was just starting to doze off near dawn, having successfully stayed awake most of the night. Hermione had been quiet for the past half hour; she hadn't thrashed around in awhile and the moaning and crying had stopped. Ginny knew the others would be getting up in a few short hours, and figured she was safe to at least doze for a bit.

Out of nowhere, Hermione gave a sharp intake of air and bolted upright in her bed, breathing heavily as though she had been running for a great distance. Ginny started, jumping out of her chair and looking wildly at Hermione.

One look told her that Hermione was back. There was no more of that blank look in her eyes, and the way that Hermione was looking around curiously, wondering where she was and why she was so confused told Ginny that her friend was back to normal. Or as normal as she could be.

"Herms?" Ginny asked cautiously.

Hermione looked at her slowly. "Ginny?"

The whole house was awakened by Ginny's joyous shriek. Shortly thereafter, Harry and Ron stumbled in, looking sleepily alarmed and grumbling about being roused from their sleep so early.

"She's back! Look! Hermione's back!"

Ron perked up a bit. "Herms? How do you feel?"

Hermione ran a hand over her face. "What the hell's the matter with me?"

"You've been a bit out of it," Ginny explained.

"Out of it? What do you mean out of it?"

"You've been in a bit of a trance. You wouldn't talk to us, you wouldn't do anything. You had like this weird, blank look in your eyes, and it wouldn't go away," Ron supplied.

"For how long? What day's it?"

"You haven't exactly been here for about a week. We go back to Hogwarts today," Harry said carefully, trying not to alarm her.

Hermione gave a shriek just as Lupin, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley entered the room.

"Are you freaking kidding me!"

"I'd say she's feeling better, what do you think, Remus?" Tonks yawned, looking bemused.

"Quite," Lupin said with the same bemused expression.

"How do you feel, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, feeling Hermione's forehead.

"Like I've done nothing but lay around for a week. I stink, I feel dirty, and I feel like I've got a troll-sized hangover, not to mention that I feel like all the happiness has been sucked right out of me," Hermione grumped.

"Lucky for us, Remus here figured out what's wrong with you, and Tonks has a little something to help you out," Mrs. Weasley said.

Hermione looked around at them all suspiciously. "What do you mean, what's wrong with me? And what's supposed to help me?"

Lupin stifled a yawn. "Lucius cursed that note he wrote to you. As soon as you touched it, it activated. _Atrox Preteritus_," he added, seeing the look on her face.

"_Atrox Preteritus._ It doesn't ring a bell. What's it do?"

"I guess you could call it a bit of a dementor curse. It's supposed to make you relive the very worst moment in your life and is supposed to make you suicidal and such. Not to mention it sometimes comes with a little voice that plants itself in your head," Lupin explained with a bit of a twisted smile.

"I've heard that voice! Stupid thing kept telling me to cut myself," Hermione muttered.

"You did," Ginny blurted out.

Hermione looked surprised. "I did?"

"Look at your arm. It's probably healed by now. Remus mended it," Tonks said.

Hermione held up her arm. Sure enough, there was a faint white line, the scar that she would forever bear as a reminder of what she lost and what she was determined to do to forever rid herself of the pain it brought with it.

"I must say though, Molly, you did a superb job on her face," Lupin said, breaking the silence.

"My face?"

"You went a bit berserk before you left us," Harry spoke up.

"How so?"

"You were clawing at your face right after you cut yourself, like something was attacking you."

Hermione wracked her brain for something to explain the behavior. "It was Greyback," she said quietly.

"Greyback?" Lupin repeated.

Hermione nodded. "Everything started coming back to me, and I think I was going mental or something. Before I cut myself, I saw my parents lying on the floor in front of me, and I could hear Malfoy laughing at me. And then Greyback appeared. . .he was going to attack me like he did my father. He was going to kill me. He told me so. He wanted to know what I thought of the job he did on my father, and he said. . .he said that I had a pretty face, so he was going to take care of that first. . ." her voice shook and then died.

"It wasn't real, Herms. It was all in your head," Ron said, sitting down next to her on the bed and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"I _am_ mental," she quivered out.

"No, you're not," Lupin said firmly. "You've been through a terrible ordeal, and it will take time for you to get over it. You may not ever get over it, but the pain will go away. . .eventually."

Hermione looked up at him, wiping tears off her face. "Eventually?"

"The, er, curse, has a slight complication."

"What?"

"It will only be lifted once you have found the one person that completes your soul. It's placed upon a person who has suffered greatly, as in losing someone they love, so that they feel as though they have lost part of their soul. That's why the curse was so ideal to be placed on you. Lucius hopes that, in suffering as much as you did, that you would become so miserable and heartbroken that you would take your own life, without finding that one soul mate that would lift the curse."

"So, in other words, I'm screwed," Hermione clarified.

"No, you're not," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

"Yes I am. Look at me, I'm a mess, who would want to put up with this? Hell, I can hardly stand to put up with it."

"That's where this comes in," Tonks said, appearing at Hermione's side with a goblet of some sort of poisonous blue liquid.

Hermione took it gingerly. "What is it?"

"I guess you could call it the Wizarding equivalent to Prozac," Tonks joked.

"It'll help with the depression," Lupin clarified.

"Ah, what the hell. It can't hurt, can it? I'd rather be clinically happy than clinically mental," Hermione declared, tipping the contents of the goblet into her mouth.

"Cheers, Herms," Harry said, grinning at Hermione's raw sense of humor.

"Well, I best get down to the kitchen and start some breakfast, now that we're all awake. There's much to do, with you lot getting off to school," Mrs. Weasley said, bustling out of the room.

"It's good to have you back, Hermione," Tonks said brightly, giving her a hug before following Mrs. Weasley and Lupin out of the room.

"You don't remember anything about it?" Harry asked quietly once the adults had left the room.

Hermione shook her head. "It was like I was trapped inside my own head. I felt like I was drowning inside. Like I was already dead. And then, I don't know, I just sort of snapped out of it. I heard someone inside my head, but it wasn't someone telling me to hurt myself."

"Who was it?" Ginny asked curiously.

"I. . .I think it was my mum."

They were all quiet for a moment, letting it digest.

"Well, that's. . .that's good, I suppose. I mean, you're back, right?" Ron said rather uncomfortably.

"I guess. I don't like the idea of being thought of as mental though," Hermione sighed.

"You're not mental!" They all exclaimed.

"I know I'm not. I mean, I think I'm not. I think I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed," she said abruptly, throwing the covers off as she got up out of bed.

They watched her walk out of the room, noticing how she looked so much thinner than she was.

"She'll be okay. She will," Ginny said fiercely, glaring at her brother and Harry, as though daring them to contradict her.

"She will. Deep within, she's still our Hermione, she just won't be coming out as much anymore," Harry agreed rather sadly.

The morning flew by quickly, and at a quarter to eleven, they arrived at King's Crossing to board the Hogwarts Express. They entered the platform from the Muggle station casually, so as to not attract attention. The platform was packed with students and their families, all there to see their children safely off. Hermione looked around and noticed with a sigh that there were a few familiar faces missing. There was no sign of Hannah Abbott anywhere, and she was pretty sure she didn't see a sign of the Patil sisters anywhere.

"You all right?" Harry asked quietly as they headed towards an empty carriage.

"Fine," she said automatically.

Once they had loaded their trunks inside their compartment, they came back out onto the platform to say one last good bye.

"Now, I want you all to behave yourselves and work hard. This is your final year," Mrs. Weasley said rather sternly, looking particularly at her son, who was carefully avoiding her gaze.

"And I want you to look after yourselves. No wandering off on your own, is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," they grumbled.

"Take care of yourself, dear," Mrs. Weasley whispered to Hermione as she gave her an extra hug.

"I will. I'll be okay," Hermione assured Mrs. Weasley, though she was really trying to assure herself.

The train whistle sounded and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them forward to board. They stood at the window and waved as the train started to move. Before they rounded the corner, Mrs. Weasley had Disapparated.

They started to move through the crowded corridor to their compartment. Ron stopped when he realized Hermione wasn't following.

"Aren't you coming?" he called over the noise.

"I can't, I have to go to the Head compartment, get my instructions," she called back, looking a little lost.

"Hey, do me a favor, tell me what my instructions are when you get back, won't you?" Ron yelled.

She nodded and gave a little wave before starting off on her own down the corridor, looking distinctly lost and alone.

Hermione made her way down the length of the train, ignoring the whispering that came from people as she passed. She had no idea what the _Daily Prophet_ had written as far as her parents' deaths were concerned, but she was pretty sure they all knew about it, and they were all talking about her as she passed.

"But I turned over a new leaf, remember? I don't give a rat's ass about what people think anymore," she told herself sternly as she held her head high, ignoring the whispered comments flying all around her.

She found the Head compartment and entered it, only to find that she was the only one there. She sat down and waited while admiring the compartment. It was decorated rather lavishly, lots of dark wooden paneling and a rich carpet under foot. The seats were rather like couches, very squishy and comfortable. The lamps that hung from the ceiling were of stained glass and cast a rather warm glow around the carriage. It was rather like being in someone's living room than on a train.

"I could get used to this," she mused to herself, just as the carriage door slid open.

She looked up, and instantly, it was as though her insides froze and shriveled up. Her breath caught in her throat.

"You have got to be kidding me. Oh, hell no," she finally stammered out.

"Nice to see you too, Granger," Draco Malfoy smirked as he sat down across from her.

"This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening," she muttered to herself, refusing to look at the accursed boy.

"Ah, but it is. Here I am, in the flesh, and, if I'm not mistaken, your new dorm mate," Draco said coolly.

"How dare you speak to me," Hermione snapped out.

Draco looked slightly affronted. "How dare I? And who are you to judge?"

"Your father killed my parents!" she shrieked.

"And what proof is there?" he sneered.

"Just because you don't have any doesn't mean that I don't!"

"Miss Granger! Lower your voice!"

Professor McGonagall stepped into the carriage as she was shrieking at Draco.

"Yes, Professor," she said, lowering her eyes and her voice.

Minerva McGonagall observed her student shrewdly for a moment before speaking again.

"I am pleased to see you are both in good health. I want to welcome you back to your final year at Hogwarts."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione muttered.

McGonagall went on to tell them their instructions before excusing them to go back to their friends.

"Miss Granger, a word if you would, please," she called as Hermione made her way to the door.

"Yes Professor?"

McGonagall waited until Draco had slid the door shut before speaking again.

"I really am sorry about your parents. I know it must be hard,"

"I'm fine," came the automatic reply.

"I'm sorry that you are rather stuck with Mr. Malfoy. He was really the best candidate out of them all."

"Surely not, Professor?"

"I assure you, whatever you may be thinking, you are quite safe. I have seen to that. There is no need to worry about being in his company," McGonagall said quietly.

"I have no doubt, Professor. I just can't help but wonder why? Why is he even back at school this year? After everything from last term?"

"You shall see in due time, Miss Granger. In the meantime, I suggest you get back to your friends. I daresay they'll be wondering where you got off to."

Hermione left the compartment, feeling the need for some more of that Prozac potion. She had a feeling she would need it more often than she would like this year.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Six**

"He's what!" Harry yelled as Hermione sat down in their carriage a few minutes later.

"Head Boy, yeah," Hermione nodded.

"But, but. . .after last year! Did nothing count against him?" Harry sputtered indignantly.

"My guess? Hell no," Ron said angrily.

"Stupid, ferrety git," Ginny supplied helpfully.

"Guys, I have to share a dorm with him. As in, live with the slimy offspring that came from the bastard that murdered my parents," Hermione said, realizing what it all meant.

'Another cut would help you out, Hermione,' the Voice awoke.

'No, it won't. Now SHUT UP!' she yelled at it.

'You'll never be able to shut me up. I'm your worst nightmare.'

'You only wish,' Hermione thought darkly.

"Herms? Hermione?" Ron was calling her name.

"What? Oh, sorry Ron," she said, turning red.

"Thought we lost you again there, for a minute," Ron said worriedly.

"No, no. . .I was just thinking," she said miserably.

"I will kill him myself. I've got half a mind to go hunt him down now and finish him," Harry said venomously.

"Don't bother. Killing him won't solve anything," Hermione said tiredly, trying to ignore the Voice in her head.

'A cut will solve it all. Blood always repays a debt.'

'Since when do I have a debt to repay?' Hermione thought incredulously.

'Since they've decided to kill you.'

'Well, they won't kill me, they can't get me here.'

'Oh really? And what do you think the Malfoy boy is?'

'He wouldn't dare. He didn't have the balls to kill Dumbledore last year. He wouldn't kill me. I know he won't.'

'Ah, but how well do you know him?'

'You know what? SHUT UP! I'm not supposed to listen to you anyways!'

"EARTH TO HERMIONE," Ginny spoke right in her ear.

She jumped. "I'm sorry guys! I can't get this crap out of my head! How am I supposed to deal with this?"

"Not alone," Ron said forcefully.

"You may have to share a dorm with him, but it doesn't mean you have to look at him," Ginny suggested.

"And if he hints at anything, or does something, we'll go kill him," Harry assured.

"How am I supposed to avoid him, though? I don't want to be forced to stay in my room or leave the dorm just so I don't have to look at him," Hermione complained.

"Best thing to do is to just act like he's not even there," Ron said bracingly.

"I guess it'll have to work. I'm not giving up my Head Girl duties just because Ferret Boy is stuck with me. I worked so hard for too long to get here," she said fiercely.

The others exchanged grins at Hermione's remark. She was in there somewhere, hidden, but when she made an appearance, it was like she was a brand new person.

"Hermione, what's gotten into you?" Ron asked jokingly.

"I decided over the summer that there was no way in hell I was going to keep up the goody-goody actthis year. I've changed. No more sweet, innocent Hermione. I'm blunt, straight to the point, sarcastic, and not the bookworm. I have to be. Anyone walking around with a damn voice inside their head all day has to do a little changing to deal with it."

"We knew there was something up. I mean, the Hermione I knew would never dress like that," Ginny said, grinning, as she gestured at Hermione's outfit.

Today she had on a pair of low-rise, very snug blue jeans with a white ribbed tank that sported a large Gothic cross, embroidered in silvery blue. She had her hair brushed down and curling wildly around her face. As more of an accent than necessity, she had stuck a white headband in her hair for added affect.

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Well, I had to change the wardrobe to fit the attitude, didn't I?"

"I get it, Herms, don't worry. And it's not like I hear Ron or Harry complaining," Ginny pointed out, looking pointedlyher brother and Harry.

"Well, I, er, sort of, you know, didn't-" Ron gibbered.

"Save it Ron, there's no point trying to dig yourself out of this one," Harry said, trying his best to hide his crimson face.

"Always the same with those two. Typical horny teenagers," Ginny declared.

"Hey!" Ron protested. "Not fair! I was trying to say that I had noticed, but if Hermione likes it, then I wasn't going to say anything. Geez, I swear, you are getting more and more unbearable, you know that, Gin?"

She smiled sweetly. "It's written in the contract. Younger sisters have to be a royal pain in the ass once they grow up. Didn't you know that?"

Ron grumbled something under his breath.

"McGonagall told me not to worry about anything. She said she had seen to making sure I would be safe when I was alone with Malfoy," Hermione said quietly to Harry while Ginny and Ron continued to argue loudly.

"She better damn well have seen to it," Harry said savagely.

"Harry, relax. I can take care of myself. I've got to move on. I can't sit around and be a train wreck for the rest of my life. If I want to throw off this curse, I have to go on with my life as though nothing happened. I have to find that one person that completes me. I can't live with this voice in my head for the rest of my life. I'll kill myself before that happens!"

"No," Harry said, looking alarmed. "That's exactly what Lucius wants. If you do that, he'll have one, and so will Voldemort. And I'm not going to let that happen. He'll think he's got one up on me, and like hell am I going to let that happen. You're my best friend, and I care for you too much to let you kill yourself. You're like a sister to me, and I won't let it happen. You got that?"

Hermione was rather touched. "I get it. I'll get through it. I promise. You really think of me as a sister?"

"Yes," he said, almost defiantly.

"I'm honored, Harry, I really am. You're like a brother to me, too, do you know that?"

Harry shook his head. "So we're on the same page now?"

"I think so. Hey, you two," Hermione said, turning to face the now scarlet-faced Ron and his equally pissed sister. "I can see the castle from here. We best get out robes on."

There was a silence in the compartment as they all dug through their trunks to find their robes. Once they were all ready, they checked their luggage one last time before sitting down as they felt the train begin to slow.

"Oh, Ron, once the train stops, prefects are to make sure everyone gets off all right and that they make it to the carriages."

"Right," he said tersely, throwing a dirty look at his sister, still angry about their row.

The train continued to lose momentum, and a few minutes later, they came to a stop at Hogsmeade station. All at once, there was a great banging as students began throwing the doors open and exiting the train.

"I've got to go ahead. McGonagall wants us to get to the exit on the platform and make sure that the platform gets cleared quickly and that everyone gets to the castle. I'll see you guys later!"

She made her way through the packed corridors, thinking longingly of when she would be able to eat a decent meal and when she could crawl into bed. She pushed her way through the crowd and out onto the platform, wending her way through the students and greeting those who called out to her as she passed. Her eyes narrowed when they spotted a familiar, brilliantly blonde head slightly ahead of her, near the exit of the platform. And by the looks of it, he wasn't going to stick around and supervise the clearing of the platform.

"Oy Malfoy! Where the hell do you think you're going?" She yelled at him.

He turned and smirked at her before continuing on his way.

"Stupid bastard," she hissed. "I'll do it myself. I can handle it all on my own. I don't need his damn help."

She stationed herself at the exit and watched as everyone made their way to the carriages. She was seething about Malfoy, and planned on telling him off as soon as she was sure she wouldn't be overheard. That little bastard wasn't going to be getting away with murder (figuratively, of course) while she had to share the Headship with him. She was going to make damn sure of it.

Draco left the Head compartment in a daze.

". . .the hell happened to Granger?" he muttered to himself as he absently walked down the now empty corridors.

In truth, he barely recognized her now. Her hair had gone from bushy to shiny and pleasantly curly, falling gently past her shoulders. Her light, almond eyes, framed by some expert makeup, had a deep sadness in them now. She had grown taller as well; she now was almost equal with Draco's six foot one inch frame. And damn did she know how to wear some clothes now. She went from the frumpy school girl goody-goody look to a sexy, shape showing wardrobe. And Draco sure as hell was not complaining. But. . .

"Stupid ass, you can't let this get to you. She is the enemy. The enemy, dammit! So what if she looks like a damn fox now? She's a worthless Mudblood that needs to be killed. But not by me. The hell if I actually try to kill her. There's no goddamn way I could lay a finger on _that _now," he reasoned with himself.

He continued to yell at himself in his head, not paying attention to where he was headed. People were looking out their compartment windows at him, some glaring, others looking at him questioningly. Draco wanted nothing to do with them. He just wanted to be by himself for now.

'By yourself, ha. You just want another look at Granger. And you're not complaining now that you get to share a dorm with her. The question is, are you going to be a worthless bastard and actually attempt to get her heart now that your father has murdered her parents?' His conscience badgered him.

'And if I want another look at Granger? What the hell's the big deal? I'm just looking for an empty compartment, and if I meet her along the way, it's not going to be a great loss. Besides, I have all year to ogle at her, why would now be such an opportune time?'

Realizing he was talking to that damn voice in his head again, he smacked himself on the forehead.

"Quit talking to that damn thing. It does you no good, you fucking moron," he told himself sternly.

"Draco?"

He heard a voice. Particularly, a shrill, nails-on-a-blackboard, bone chilling female voice that could mean absolutely nothing good. As though rooted to the spot and steeling himself for the sight behind him, he turned slowly.

"Oh, fuck no," he groaned.

It was Pansy Parkinson.

"Draco!" She squealed in a high voice that made him wince horribly.

"Oh Draco! We didn't think we'd ever see you again! You had me so worried! Oh, I've missed you so much!" She squealed again as she ran up to him and yanked him into a bone crushing hug.

"Pansy, d'you mind? I can't fucking breathe!" He choked out, feeling a few ribs give under the pressure being exerted on them.

She let him go reluctantly. "Where did you disappear to after. . .after everything?" she said in a hushed voice.

"Somewhere," he said shortly, looking around and noticing people had their faces literally plastered to the glass, trying to listen in.

"We didn't think you'd come back. We didn't think they'd let you come back," she said in the same hushed voice.

"Well, good for them. Anyways, listen Pansy, I'd love to stay and chat, but, uh, I have to go find someone. I'll see you around."

He turned and continued down the corridor, ignoring the people who were pressed up against the glass.

"Stupid gits," he muttered.

When he finally found solace in an empty compartment, he collapsed onto one of the seats and closed his eyes. This was going to be an impossible year, he knew it. He would be royally screwed no matter what, as his father and Voldemort saw to it to plant another spy in Hogwarts to keep a watch on him.

"Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, and then Father and Voldemort come up with this fucking _brilliant_ idea. I'm tired of being the damn guinea pig," he groaned to himself. "Why did they have to think that planting a spy at Hogwarts was going to work again?"

He laid there with his eyes closed for the remainder of the trip, only opening his eyes again when he realized it was completely dark outside and the train was slowing down. He unsealed his trunk with a muttered counter charm and hastily pulled out some crumpled robes. He was supposed to oversee the exiting of the station once the train had stopped, but, dammit, he was bloody tired and very hungry. There was no way in hell he was going to stand around with Granger and watch all the school get up to the castle first, not when there was a decent, hot meal to be had up there.

When the train stopped, he joined the anxious students queuing up at the doors as everyone slowly exited the train. Once he was out on the platform, he stopped and looked around for a minute. Students surged around him, some gawking, others pointing and muttering openly as he faced the place that had been hell for him last term.

When he finally got over the overall eeriness of the surrounding area, he came to his senses and began to move towards the platform exit. People were muttering all around him, but all he cared about was getting up to the school. He couldn't quite place it, but the eeriness he felt around him had something to do with the ghosts of last term. It was almost as if Dumbledore's ghost was lurking around, anywhere he turned, there to reach out and grab him, to remind him of what he did, and how he was so very fortunate to be able to come back to the place where he was killed and finish his education.

He was just taking the first step down the stairs towards the carriages when a voice rang out behind him, sounding excessively pissed off about something.

"Oy Malfoy! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

He turned around to see. . .very tall, very gorgeous, brunette girl, his age, quite beautiful. . .oh wait, dammit, Granger!

He smirked at her, which incensedgirl further. He could almost see the sparks shooting from her eyes as he turned and walked away, enjoying how he infuriated her. . .well, sort of. The truth was, she was so damn different he found it almost difficult to enjoy taunting her, not after everything that happened. And besides, who was she to go and get drop dead gorgeous over the summer without any warning? It wasn't nice of her to change so drastically without any warning, he should have seen it coming, that way he wouldn't be thrown so off guard, dammit.

He managed to score an empty carriage for himself. When he finally looked straight out the window in front of him, he received a huge shock. The carriage wasn't horseless after all. Those skeletal, black, demon-like things that the oaf Hagrid had shown them in the fifth year were pulling the carriages. What was it he had said? Oh yeah, you only can see them if you've watched someone snuff it.

"I guess Dumbledore counts as mine, then," he muttered, watching the glossy back of the thestral move gracefully as it pulled the carriage closer to the castle.

When the carriage pulled up to the rest of them, lined up at the castle entrance, he jumped down from his and joined everyone else as they flooded towards the doors. Then he saw McGonagall standing there at the doors, watching everyone move through.

"Oh damn, she is going to be so pissed when she sees I'm not with Granger," he groaned.

He did his best to duck low and move to the other side of the queue, away from McGonagall and her hawk eyes. Of course, it didn't help that he stood out so well against everyone else, with his accursed brilliantly blonde hair.

"Malfoy!"

"Oh, shit," he moaned, pulling a face and for a moment, acting like a five year old caught in the act of stealing some treacle before dinner.

He dragged his feet towards McGonagall, who was looking remarkably like a dragon at the moment.

"Explain to me why you are not with Miss Granger, supervising the platform exit?" she asked in a deadly tone.

"Well, er, you see, Professor. . ." he tried.

"Save it, Mr. Malfoy. Twenty points from Slytherin. I should have expected better from the Head Boy. Keep this up and I'll have you removed. Get into the Great Hall," she said, glaring at him icily.

Walking into the Hall with his head bowed and his hands in his pockets, he made his way over to Slytherin table, again ignoring the stares and mutterings that arose when he walked in. He made sure to sit down at a spot that was furthest from Pansy, as she was giving him the eye and leaving the space next to her pointedly empty.

He kept his head down as the Hall filled up around him. He took no notice of how his end of the table remained remarkably empty, due to the fact that everyone now that Draco was infected with dragon pox or the Plague, whichever they thought was worse.

Once everyone was situated at their respective tables, McGonagall came through the doors, leading the new first years. All of them had varying degrees of fright upon their faces, and some of them, he noticed, already knew who he was, for when some of them caught his eye, they hurried to catch up to the pack.

"I hate my life," he muttered darkly.

Professor McGonagall was just unrolling the scroll with all the first years' names on it when again, the doors to the Great Hall opened. Granger walked in, glaring at all who looked to see who the latecomer was. She stalked over to the Gryffindor's table, where she literally threw herself into a space between Weasley and Potter. He could almost see the air crackle around her with an electricity sparked only by how incredibly pissed she was.

He watched as she turned to mutter to both Weasley and Potter, and then, without warning, all three of them turned around and glared daggers at him. Draco quickly averted his eyes, but not before he caught the look in Potter's eyes. It clearly said that whenever he had the chance, and Draco was alone, he was going to get the dog crap beat out of him.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat to get everyone's attention again, and instantly, the Hall went silent. Draco listened to his stomach grumble loudly as McGonagall read off the names, the line dwindling slowly at the T's.

At long last, with "Xerxes, Melody!" the Sorting was over. McGonagall rolled up her scroll and moved the stool with the Sorting Hat off to the side before walking up behind the High Table, standing at her place, leaving the magnificent chair that was Dumbledore's empty.

"Welcome, everyone, to another year at Hogwarts. It is good to see you all again, and I am pleased to see you are all in good health." She paused, looking around at all the faces looking back at her. Some were subdued, remembering the loss of Dumbledore, others were depressed; they were the ones that had lost loved ones over the summer.

"The end of last term left us all damaged, heartbroken, grieving at our loss. We said good bye to one of the greatest people Hogwarts has ever seen. Hogwarts will live on, but never will we forget Albus Dumbledore. His legacy will last forever, and whether you realize it or not, he has impacted each and every one of your lives. It may seem difficult, nearly impossible, that Hogwarts would continue to exist after Professor Dumbledore's murder, but I can assure you, the castle is quite protected, and though he is gone, the enchantments and spells he cast still remain. As the former Deputy Headmistress, it was my duty to step up after Professor Dumbledore left us, and I am now acting Headmistress. Those who need to seek me will be able to find me in the Head's Office. Now, enough talk! I'm sorry to befuddle you for so long. Let us eat."

As she sat down, the tables filled with food and drink for everyone.The sounds of people happily eating filled the Hall, but at Draco's end of Slytherin table, there was nothing but silence as his fellow house mates kept well clear of him, occasionally shooting him malevolentlooks. He could understand their feelings completely; after all, he abandoned them before the end of the term, and he had promised to lead them to greatness.

After a while, when the desserts had finally faded away, and the remains of Draco's hardly touched meal vanished from his plate, Professor McGonagall finally stood up again.

"I suggest we all retire to our beds for the night. The term returns in full tomorrow morning, so get well rested. And I will need to speak to our Head Boy and Girl outside in the entrance hall. You are dismissed."

Draco got up automatically and moved towards the doors, well ahead of everyone else. He had no desire to speak to them, and they, him. He waited just outside the doors, leaning casually up against the wall, his arms folded, his face arranged in a blank expression.

Moments later, Granger appeared, still fuming about his failure to cooperate earlier on the platform. She threw him a filthy look and stood well away from him, refusing to acknowledge he was there. Shortly thereafter, McGonagall appeared, giving Granger a faint smile, and looking at Draco like he was a slug. Indifferent to the behavior, he stood up straighter and looked at the woman straight on.

"Well, as you both know, the Heads share a dormitory. You will have a common room, your own separate bedrooms, and a bathroom. You may entertain friends if you so wish, just be sure to mind the rules. Come along now, I'll show you where you are at."

McGonagall started up the stairs. Wordlessly, Draco followed, Granger alongside him, still not speaking to him. From time to time, she would glare at him sideways, but otherwise gave no indication that she knew he was there.

On the fourth floor, McGonagall stopped outside a portrait of a lion and a snake. The lion was lazing around on a sunny rock, the snake resting comfortably in the rock's shadow. Both looked up at the three when they stopped in front of the painting.

"_Unity_," Professor McGonagall spoke.

The portrait swung open, revealing a sort of stone-walled antechamber with another plain, wooden door facing them.

"Welcome to your new dormitory. I daresay you'll enjoy it immensely," the professor said before swinging the door open.

Hermione gave an audible gasp as she walked inside. Facing them on the opposite wall was a handsome, glossy fireplace, complete with a warming, roaring fire. Two large and squashy armchairs were grouped in front of it, along with a side table, which held several large volumes of books. Hanging above the fireplace, sleeping in their portraits, were none other than Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin.

"Godric! Salazar!" McGonagall called.

Both of the men opened their eyes sleepily. When they saw McGonagall standing there, watching them, they rubbed their eyes and looked quizzically down at her.

"You called, Minerva?" Salazar questioned. He had an oily voice, and there was something very shrewd about the way he looked at the Headmistress.

"Yes, I did, Salazar. I've brought our new Head Boy and Girl up. Let me introduce you to Draco Malfoy of Slytherin, obviously, and Hermione Granger, of Gryffindor."

Godric looked down at Hermione with interest. "My house, eh? Do possess the bravery and nobility that I prided myself on?"

"I'd like to think so, sir," she answered.

"Good, good," he roared. "Excellent."

The two Heads looked around them. They seemed to be in a tower, as the ceiling was almost nonexistent as they looked up. The large common room held several large bookshelves, their own mini library. There were two couches grouped together near the bookcases, with side tables that held glowing oil lamps. Slightly behind the couches, closer to the bookshelves were two very large desks, complete with ink pots and plenty of spare quills. Two handsome oaken chairs stood respectively, finished with squashy velour cushions.

"Your bedrooms are up there," McGonagall said, pointing.

The two teens turned to look where she was pointing. A beautiful carved staircase swept up the side of the circular wall, leading up to a wide sort of catwalk, where they saw three solitary wooden doors standing.

"The middle one is the bathroom, and the other two would be for you," McGonagall clarified. "I daresay you'll find everything you need. I've had your trunks brought up for you as well. Feel free to come find me if there is anything you desire. Good night to you both."

Hermione had already started up the stairs before McGonagall had left. When she reached the three doors, she paused, wondering which one was hers. She peered closely at the door knob on the door to the right of the bathroom. She was just able to discern an elaborate working of a lion on it. When she opened the door, she let out another gasp.

The room was very large, also with the gently curving walls that signified being in a tower. The color scheme was different shades of rich red and warm golds. A large canopied bed stood against the right wall inside the door, up against the far wall across from the door. This room too had a sightly fireplace, directly across from her bed. Just inside the door, to her left stood a stately wardrobe. She went over to it and opened it. The house elves had already emptied her trunk and all her clothing and robes were hanging inside, her several pairs of shoes lined up at the bottom of the wardrobe. She had her own desk in here as well, accompanied by a smaller bookcase, nonetheless filled with books. On her bedside table stood a beautiful red and gold oil lamp, the oil in the base enchanted to swirl red and gold. From the ceiling hung another similar lamp, the oil in it swirling red and gold also. A warm plush red rug covered the floor, which was embroidered in sparkling gold thread.

"I'm in heaven," she whispered.

She noticed then the door that stood on the far left wall. She knew it had to lead into the bathroom and went over to it and opened it. The bathroom itself was nearly as large as her bedroom. Laid into the floor was a bath the size of a small pool, and around its edges were many different taps, each with a different colored glowing jewel, signifying what each did. On the wall directly across from where Hermione stood was another door, leading into Draco's room. Besides the bath, there was an elaborate shower set up as well. It was set as a sort of maze, with high tiled walls. One must walk between the walls and turn a few times before actually getting to the shower, which had many jets and heads set into the wall, a massaging shower, if you will. On the left hand wall stood a lengthy counter, in which two sinks were set. A full length mirror hung above the counter. The toilet stood on the right hand wall, hidden between two walls. Hermione noticed that the two house colors were combined in here, there was lots of red, green, silver and gold to be had wherever she turned.

Hermione walked back into her room, thinking of changing into her pajamas when her door burst open and there stood Draco Malfoy, looking around with a scrutinizing look upon his face.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded as he walked further into her room.

"Just making sure you don't have a better bedroom than me," he said, walking over to her bed and flopping onto it for a second.

"Get off my bed!" she shrieked.

"Just checking to see if yours is more comfortable."

"Get out!" she shrieked again.

"Like I really want to be in here. I was just merely seeing if things were equal. After all, equality is my policy. Well, unless it concerns Mudbloods such as yourself."

Hermione seized her wand off her table. "My suggestion to you, Malfoy, is to get out of here before you end up with your mouth transplanted onto your ass. And that's not a threat, it's a goddamn promise. Now, GET OUT!"

He eyed her wand closely before getting up off her bed and walking to the door, where he paused.

"Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention something. I like what you've done with yourself, Granger. Very nice," he smirked, eying her up and down before shutting the door with a snap, as something very large and heavy broke against the wall above his head.

"He. . .is. . .INFURIATING!" she shrieked one last time as she took several deep breaths to calm herself.

She walked over to the wardrobe again and pulled out her pajamas. A few minutes later, she climbed into her enormous bed and leaned over to extinguish the lamp next to her bed. She snuggled down under her covers, enjoying how warm they were and how very much like a cloud her bed was. It was very comfortable, lying there under the covers, listening to the fire crackle. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and before the fire had extinguished itself, Hermione was asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Seven**

Hermione awoke abruptly early the next morning, breathing heavily. She had been dreaming that she was asleep, much like she just was, and Malfoy randomly came into her room. He had sat down at the edge of her bed and began stroking her hair away from her face while she slept. No harm done, right? Wrong. As she began to wake from her sleep in her dream, Malfoy suddenly morphed into Lucius Malfoy, and with one quick movement, had gone from stroking her hair away from her face to bringing both of his hands to her throat, and he began to throttle her. She thrashed around, trying to get away from him, but the lack of oxygen began to weaken her, and she gave up fighting as she felt herself slowly losing consciousness.

The words Lucius hissed as he was strangling her still coursed through her head. "Die, Mudblood, die!"

She sat up in bed, shaking her head to rid herself of the images her mind had just showed her and rubbed her eyes before looking at her alarm clock. It was a little after five.

She got up and went over to her wardrobe, pulling out some clean underthings before heading into the bathroom, with the pretense of getting a hot shower in before heading down to breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, she walked out of the shower and over to the sink with a towel wrapped firmly around her. She raised a hand to the mirror and wiped away some of the condensation that fogged the mirror. Dark circles framed her eyes underneath, and she looked pale. Her hair, still damp from her shower, hung down in wet ringlets past her shoulders.

With a sigh, she picked up her toothbrush (red, to match Gryffindor, of course!) and commenced to brush her teeth. She was just starting to comb out her hair when the door from Malfoy's room opened and he walked in, carrying his own necessities. He stopped short when he saw her standing before the mirror, still with only the towel on. That insufferable smirk played around his lips as he gave her the once over again.

"Do you mind?" she asked him, annoyed that he was standing there ogling at her and annoyed that a slight blush began to creep up her face.

"No, not at all. I'm just admiring the view," he said, walking over to the sink and setting down his things, one of which was a sharp and lethal looking razor.

"I'm not done in here. When I'm done, you can have the bathroom. Until then, get out!"

"Ah, see that's the difference between you and me. See, I have no problem sharing a bathroom with someone. I'm not shy about my, _ahem,_ assets. I'm perfectly fine with you being in here. I was just going to step into the shower for a few minutes. So, if _you_ don't mind, I'll get on with my business, and you can get on with yours."

To her very great surprise (and pleasure?) Malfoy stripped off his t-shirt and pulled off his pajama pants, and stepped around her towards the shower, in nothing but his boxers. She was pretty sure she didn't imagine it, but she thought she saw him give her a suggestive wink as he strutted over to the shower walls.

Once he vanished behind the walls of the shower, it took several minutes for Hermione to get her mind back on track. Since he was practically in front of her when he stripped off his t-shirt, she got a _damn_ good look at his physique. He had a six pack that could make you fall over, not to mention that he wore his boxers very low on his hips, and he had that _damn_ sexy leg segmentation or whatever the hell it was that guys had that could make you swoon.

"Goddamn you, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth as she realized that she had been absently trying to comb thin air for the past minute.

Once her hair had been (finally!) combed, she walked back into her room and all but slammed the door behind her. Walking over to her wardrobe again, she pulled out her favorite denim mini skirt and her favorite lilac cami. She pulled them on and dug through her other shirts until she found her other favorite lilac and turquoise striped blouse, both shirts, of course, were far from loose fitting.

Looking in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door and finding her appearance satisfying, she picked up her makeup bag from the shelf above the clothes rack and proceeded back into the bathroom, without knocking.

She found Malfoy standing in front of his sink with nothing but towel wrapped around his middle, shaving with that lethal looking razor. She paused for a second at the door, but, deciding that if he could barge in on her, she could barge in on him. She walked calmly over to the counter and set down her bag without a glance at Malfoy. She could try as hard as she could to not look at him and his shirtless torso. She could try very, _very_ hard indeed.

She again wiped off a clear spot on the mirror and opened her bag. For a few seconds she rummaged around inside it, looking for her eyeliner and her violet eyeshadow. Finally finding what she was looking for, she leaned in towards the mirror and proceeded to first apply some cover up to her face and then the eyeliner. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Malfoy sneaking covert looks at her, as though she couldn't notice.

"Like what you see, Malfoy?" she asked bluntly the fifth time this happened.

He gave a little jump and went back to his shaving.

She gave a satisfied smirk and went back to her eyeshadow. She traced a small line underneath her eyeliner and applied a small amount to her upper eyelid. She then applied her mascara, and finally, a hint of blush to add a bit of color to her pale face. Once she was sure she was finished, she stepped back and looked at herself carefully, making sure everything was in place. She pulled her wand out of her waistband and curled her hair around it, making it fall in loose waves around her shoulders. She pulled out another head band and stuck it in place, winding some of the curls down around her face. Satisfied with her appearance, she picked up her makeup and stuck it underneath the sink in one of the cabinets.

She walked back towards her room, intent on grabbing some robes to throw on before joining Harry and Ron downstairs for breakfast. Just before she got to the door, Malfoy called out to her.

"I'd be careful with those clothes if I were you, Granger. Some people might get the _wrong_ idea about you, _if_ you know what I mean."

She ignored him and continued into her bedroom, again slamming the door behind her.

Ten minutes later, she sat down next to Harry and Ron and pulled some bacon towards her.

"Good morning to you too," Ron said, noticing the glare on her face as she angrily bit down on some bacon.

"I _loathe_ Malfoy," she said bitterly.

"What'd he do?" Harry asked quickly, his temper rising without knowing what the problem was.

"Oh, he's just being his usual _charming_ self."

"And by that you mean. . .?" Ron asked.

"Put it this way, you know how I've sort of changed my wardrobe?"

The two boys nodded.

"Let's just say he was making. . ._allusions_ towards my choice in clothing and how people might get the _wrong_ idea about me."

Both of them sat there stupidly, attempting to figure out what she meant.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, you idiots! She's talking about how people might think she's willing to jump in the sack if she gets a good enough offer!" Ginny exclaimed as she sat down on Hermione's other side.

"He _what!"_ Ron bellowed.

Half the Hall went silent as people turned to stare at him.

"Oops. I mean, he _what?" _Ron hissed.

Hermione nodded. "But it's nothing I can't handle," she said quickly, noticing Harry rising from his seat and glaring at something near the doors.

She turned quickly and saw Malfoy strutting into the Hall. As he sat down, he looked over at her and gave her an odd look. But the next moment, he immersed himself in conversation with a dark haired boy next to him.

"Harry, no!" she exclaimed as Harry stood up fully and started towards Slytherin table.

She grabbed the back of his robes and wrenched him back down in his seat.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me, dammit! I can handle him on my own!"

"Not if he. . .if he, you know. . .tries something," he whispered furiously.

She smiled in spite of the situation. "Harry, do you really think I'm as defenseless as I look? I have a few things up my sleeve for that little prick. Trust me, I'm not a weak little girl."

"I never said you were!" he said indignantly.

"Best do as she says, mate," Ron said seriously. "If she says she can, let her do it. I know she can do it. Besides, won't it be worth it to see her kick the crap out of him?"

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded.

"He knows I'm serious. Last night I told him if he didn't shut his big mouth, I'd transplant his mouth to his ass. And it wasn't a threat, it was a promise."

Ginny giggled as the other two chortled in amusement.

Professor McGonagall came towards them, carrying a stack of parchment. "New schedules for you all. Let's see here, N.E.W.T students. . ." she muttered absently as she consulted a clipboard with their grades from last year.

Minutes later, the four of them had their new schedules. Hermione looked down at the schedule and noticed the new teacher listed beside the Defense Against the Dark Arts course.

"Looks like they found someone after all," Ron commented, noticing the name too.

"Professor M. Nemesaris," Harry muttered to himself before looking up at the High Table.

The other three followed his gaze and found themselves staring at a young woman sitting in Snape's former place. Her was long and black, hanging down well past her shoulders. Her face had a graceful structure to it, almost regal, but when she looked up from her breakfast, they saw a harsh coldness in her features. Her eyes were sharp and grey, sweeping around the Hall before going back to her meal. She wore deep blue robes, and over them, a fine, silver cloak, fastened at the base of her neck with a curious, swirling brooch.

"She looks pleasant enough. Well, except for the fact that she looks like she could go mental any second and kill us all," Ron commented.

They all laughed and went back to their schedules, looking to see when they had this new teacher.

"First class right after lunch," Hermione said, leaning over to see whether Harry and Ron's said the same thing.

"And it's a N.E.W.T. class, which means there's a bloody good chance Ferret Boy will be in there," Ron groaned.

"Yes, well, Potions is too, and we never had a problem before, remember? And at least Slughorn's still here," Harry said reasonably.

It was true, Professor Horace Slughorn had decided to remain one more year at Hogwarts after Dumbledore's demise. And as Snape had run off, Slytherin needed a new Head of House, so Slughorn took back his old house and stayed on as Potions master. At the moment, Slughorn was seated up at the High Table next to Professor Flitwick. Both were immersed in a deep conversation.

"Well, at least we still get free periods every now and then," Ron said halfheartedly, looking down at his schedule with a sad face. "Every bloody course they can think of for N.E.W.T's, and we've just about got them all. I'll be lucky to make it out of this year alive. I just might die from lack of sleep. You know how important these things are?"

Hermione nodded. "We need them to get jobs after this. Have you lot decided what you wanted to do yet?"

Ron shrugged in an offhand way, but Harry nodded vigorously. "Auror. Definitely an Auror. There's really no question about it, you know that, as you. . ."

Hermione shot him a warning look before he finished his sentence and revealed that she wanted to become an Auror as well.

Harry looked apologetic as he hastily shut his mouth. Meanwhile, Ron was looking curiously between the two.

"As you, what?" he asked.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly.

Ron didn't look convinced. "Oh all right then. Leave me out of it. See if I care, I'll just go on being politely clueless, shall I?"

Hermione looked at his slightly hurt face, feeling sorry for him. She really didn't want anyone knowing she wanted to be an Auror, she didn't know why, but she just didn't feel like disclosing that particular bit of information was wise. However, in Ron's case. . .

"Fine. If you must know, then what Harry was about to say was how I have decided that there is no question about it for me as well. Ron, I want to become an Auror too."

"That's all? That's the big secret?"

"That's the big secret."

He gave a short laugh. "Why was it such a big secret?"

She shrugged. "I just didn't feel like telling anyone. For some reason, I didn't think people should know, that's all."

He shrugged. "I guess that makes the three of us then. I haven't thought of anything else I wanted to be, and besides, fighting's the only thing that really matters anymore, isn't it?"

Hermione and Harry nodded. Then, Harry looked at his watch.

"Oh damn! We'd better hurry, or we'll be late to Potions!"

There was a scramble to shove down any last bits of breakfast, grabbing of school bags and furious chugging of some last minute pumpkin juice before the trio bolted out of the Great Hall and down the steps to the dungeons.

In anticipation for their Defense Against the Dark Arts class after lunch, Hermione found the morning passing by painfully slow. It seemed that hardly anything Professor Slughorn was saying about the complex Death Draught penetrated her skull, and she found herself losing focus and staring off into space for minutes at a time.

". . .which means that when two parts monkshood and three parts wolfsbane are added to four parts hemlock and one part rose hips, the resulting mixture will produce an acid so deadly, it will literally only take the potion touching the victim's lips to kill them instantly." Slughorn finished impressively.

Kill. Deadly. Instantaneous death.

'Ah death, such a pleasant experience. Well, not in the case of your parents, but they were an exception, weren't they, Hermione? They didn't choose to die, did they? They had their lives brutally taken? What was it now? Your mother's neck was snapped, wasn't it?' The Voice said slyly.

'Goddamn it! SHUT UP! GO TO HELL!'

'I am your hell. You are in hell. Deal with it.'

"Miss Granger?" Slughorn was asking her something.

She jumped. "I'm sorry, sir. What was that again?"

Slughorn looked at her a little concernedly. "Are you quite all right there, dear? You look a little pale and sickly."

"I'm fine, sir, it's just, you know, the first day back. A little lack of sleep is all."

"If you're sure," he trailed off uncertainly.

"Quite sure. Was there a question you needed answered?"

Slughorn instantly reverted back to teacher mode. "Ah, yes, yes, yes. The question. I was merely inquiring as to why you needed to add the monkshood to the wolfsbane before mixing them with the hemlock and rose hips."

"The components, when added one at a time, separately, to the liquid solution will produce an entirely different compound, meaning an entirely different acid, which probably wouldn't be nearly strong enough to produce the killing effect so desired."

"Very good! Take ten points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

The rest of Potions slid by slowly, and after that, she found herself nearly asleep in Arithmancy, normally her favorite subject. Professor Vector didn't seem to pleased with her, but Hermione was too interested in the DADA class that she hardly cared.

At long last, the trio met up again in the Great Hall for lunch before proceeding up to Professor Nemesaris's room for the first DADA class.

When they arrived outside her room, they found they weren't the only ones waiting there. As this was a N.E.W.T level class, they found themselves only joined by three Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, and of course, Malfoy with the dark haired boy Hermione had seen him talking to earlier at breakfast.

They all fell silent when the door opened on its own accord, and filed just as silently into the classroom. It was a mix of pictures like the ones Snape had in his day, and almost a bit of Trelawney's room as well. The three didn't know whether to be intimidated or disgusted; there were several shawls and such draped over the lighting so that it was eerily dim in the room.

'Almost like the day your parents died, isn't it Hermione?' The Voice asked.

'If you don't shut up. . .' she thought warningly.

'You'll what? Bash your head against a wall in an attempt to dislodge me? Ha, that's a good one, nothing I haven't been threatened with before, though, might I say, it's never been successful.'

"Good afternoon," a cold voice said from the shadows.

Everyone jumped and looked around for the source of the voice. Professor Nemesaris stepped out of the shadows near the door, looking impressive and intimidating.

"As I understand, this is my N.E.W.T. class, is it not?"

They all nodded, fearful of what could happen if they didn't answer.

A smile suddenly lit the professor's face, making her look a cross between highly insane or extremely happy. Hermione decided on both. It scared her, she had never seen that look before on anyone. She looked sideways at Harry and received a shock; it was clear he had seen that look before, and now sat as though frozen in his chair, his eyes wide with appall. She gave him a nudge, attempting to get him back to his senses.

Professor Nemesaris took attendance, pausing at Harry's name for a moment. She looked up at him and surveyed him, unblinkingly, for several moments. Hermione couldn't tell whether she was trying to frighten him or get an idea as to how tough he really was. But Harry wouldn't back down, he stared right back at her until she looked away.

"Now then, as this is your final year at Hogwarts, we will enter into the fun things. I will show you many complex curses, spells and enchantments and their counterparts. This is important to your futures outside the school, what with the Dark Lord running around killing everyone in sight," she paused, and Hermione thought she saw something of a smirk on the professor's lips. But the next second, she figured she must have imagined it, as Professor Nemesaris continued on.

"So, with that, does anyone know a Dark curse? Besides the Unforgivable Curses?"

Nobody raised their hands. Professor Nemesaris shook her head.

"I should have expected better of you. You're seventh years! Obviously you're behind. Way behind."

The rest of the class was spent taking notes on the complex curses and writing down their counter curses. That is, until Professor Nemesaris noticed Malfoy wasn't paying attention.

She walked over to him slowly. He took no notice apparently, he was lost in a daydream. His eyes were glazed over, and he was staring somewhere vaguely to the left of him.

With a quick jerk, Professor Nemesaris cracked Malfoy on the head with her hand.

"The hell?" Malfoy yelled, jerking out of his spell and jumping out of his chair.

"My suggestion to you, Mr. Malfoy, is to pay attention in my class, or suffer the consequences. Failure to do so may result in these poor people around you seeing your lifeless corpse upon the floor, mangled and torn, as you would so rightly deserve."

Hermione's stomach lurched. Mangled, torn bodies upon the floor. Lifeless corpses. Dead. Life ripped from their bodies without cause. Blood. Blood on her clothing, blood on her hands. The letter, in her parents blood.

Hermione's mind spun. She tried to focus, get it out of her head.

'No point, my dear. They're here, they're always here. They'll never leave you. They'll haunt you for the rest of your days,' the Voice taunted.

Hermione's eyes swam with tears as she looked down at the floor and saw her parents, lying there, her father's face viciously slashed, her mother's head lying at a weird angle.

"No," she whispered. "Not again, please, not again."

And there was Greyback, coming towards her again, claws outstretched.

Hermione flung herself backward, off her chair, grabbing her bag, stumbling backward, away from her parents' lifeless bodies and away from Greyback.

"Hermione?" Harry and Ron both said, alarmed.

Hermione didn't hear them. All she knew is that she had to get away from Greyback and her parents and that goddamn voice in her head, which was calling out for her to take action.

'One cut. It solves it all. Just do it. You know it makes you feel better,' the Voice told her, encouraging her.

"No! Please, not again! Stop! Get away from me! AWAY FROM ME, I SAID!" She screamed before running from the room.

She didn't hear Harry and Ron yelling after her, nor did she notice the knowing smirk upon the professor's face as she tore blindly from the room.

Up one corridor, down a flight of stairs. The third floor, the third floor, dammit, where was the third floor and the painting of the lion and the snake?

She reached it and screamed the password, hearing Greyback behind her, closing in. The pain was overwhelming again. She couldn't deal with it anymore.

"Time to die, Granger!" Greyback called out to her.

Sobbing and screaming, Hermione ran into the common room and up the stairs, flying towards the bathroom.

"Get away from me! I don't want to deal with this anymore!" She screamed, feeling her throat tear as she screamed as loud as she could.

Into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Looking wildly around, something, anything! Just one mark, that's all she needed. Just one little reminder of what physical pain felt like.

The razor! Where's the razor!

She hurtled towards the sink, tearing through the cabinets like a crazed woman, looking for the accursed razor, which had gleamed shiny and dangerous this morning.

She found it inside a handsome leather case. She yanked it out and unfolded it, watching through tear stained eyes as it gleamed menacingly in the light.

She sank down upon the floor, panting, trying to hold her hand steady as she pulled up her sleeve and eyed her wrist. There was the faint scar from her previous episode, white and spidery, stretching across the length of her wrist.

Her parents' bodies were there on the floor in front of her, calling out to her silently, begging her to right the wrongs done to them. They were crying to her, softly, silently, telling her of the horrors they had to endure before life was wiped cleanly from their bodies.

"NO! I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE! MAKE IT STOP!"

With one clean swipe, she ran the razor across her wrist, opening up a positive river of blood. The cut was much deeper and longer than the last one, and as the nerve endings in her wrist signaled pain, Hermione's mind breathed a sign of relief; at last, release.

The razor fell to the floor with a clatter, now crimson mixed with the dangerously sharp and silver metal. An odd thought floated across her grief-filled and pained mind; the crimson represented Gryffindor, and the silver, Slytherin. They were united in pain.

Though she had finally brought out the physical pain that she had been needing to feel for so long, her parents still laid there on the floor in front of her, though they were no longer crying out, telling their story. Hermione closed her eyes and began rocking back and forth on the floor, trying to get it all out of her head. But once again, that damn voice would not shut up.

'That feels better, doesn't it? I told you it would. Just a small taste of what your parents went through. It pales in comparison, but in the end, blood is blood, and blood _always_ pays that debt. Although, Lucius would be much happier if he were here to make the blood spill, and he'd be much, much happier if you were dead.'

Hermione didn't have the strength to tell it to shut up. She didn't have much strength left for anything. The slash she made on her wrist continued to bleed furiously, and if it didn't stop soon. . .

All at once, the sobbing began again. There was so much pain locked under the surface, so much that she didn't dare show, for fear they would think she was cracking up. There was a lot she couldn't do anymore. The Voice and the pain, the incessant fear of being thought of as mental, it was all getting to be too much.

As Hermione's mind and heart flooded with the thought that things would be so much easier for everyone if she was dead, the door to the bathroom banged open with a crash and hurried footsteps in her direction signaled the arrival of someone.

"Granger! What the hell did you do? You're bleeding all over the place!"

The hated voice. That egotistical, spoiled, horny bastard that was sired from the man who killed her parents.

More footsteps, then the hated was kneeled next to her, a hand going to the cut, trying to stop it.

"Jesus, Hermione, what did you do?" It was kinder this time, not so accusing, and he used her first name.

The sound of air passing her ear, and then something cold and wet being pressed against the cut. Then, more footsteps, as though two people were running up the stairs, and then, shouts.

"What the hell! Hermione, what did you do?"

Harry. . .and Ron. . .more words flying through the air, though none of it mattered to her anymore. She was tired. . .so tired. . .and her parents were still there. . .blood on the floor. . .not theirs, but hers. . .

nothing made sense anymore. . .and she had lost so much blood. . .

"I'm sorry," she whispered out through nearly white lips. "I'm sorry."

More pressure to the wound. . .and then. . .arms around her. . .scooping her up. . .

"I think Madam Pomfrey needs to see her. Just lay your head down, Herms, it's gonna be okay. You're safe now."

Safe. Nobody was safe anymore. Especially her. Not with the hated living in such close quarters with her. Lure you into a sense of false security. . .wait for it. . .then stab you in the back when you thought you were safe.

To Hermione Granger, there was no such thing as safe anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Eight**

Ron carried Hermione the whole way to the hospital wing. She was extremely out of it, one moment, she seemed to know what was going on, the next, she was crying softly, like a lost child, and she would cry out for her mother and father. But most of all, she kept apologizing, like she could have helped what she did.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I'm so sorry," she whispered to him, still crying quietly.

"Don't be stupid. You couldn't help it. It was that damn professor, and _him._" Ron said furiously, nodding towards Malfoy, who insisted on tagging along to the hospital wing.

Malfoy looked surprised. "Me? How the hell is this my fault?"

"You just _had_ to space off in Professor Nemesaris' class, didn't you?" Harry asked maddeningly.

"How was I supposed to know the crazy bitch was going to act like that?" Draco demanded.

"You knew she was a goddamn new teacher! How could you _not_ know that she would react that way? It was our first goddamn class in there, Malfoy, could you have been any stupider to space off in front of her like that? And then to have her speak like that in front of Hermione? Jesus Christ, we're lucky Hermione didn't do any more serious damage than she did!" Ron yelled.

Hermione jumped slightly in his arms.

"Shhhh. It's okay. We're almost there," he said soothingly.

Madam Pomfrey was not pleased.

"How did this happen?" she asked imperiously.

Harry and Ron launched in on the explanation of what happened, carefully pointing out that it was all Malfoy's fault.

"You did this?" Madam Pomfrey rounded on him.

"Do I look like some sick crazy person who would hurt her like this?" He yelled in annoyance.

"She did this to herself, Madam. Professor Nemesaris said some things in front of her that brought her back to that. . .place. . .where she doesn't know who she is or what she's doing. And I think it might have been the voice again," Harry explained.

"I know of the curse that's been placed on her, Mr. Potter. The question is, what did she use to slash her wrist with, and why was she allowed access to it in the first place?"

Harry and Ron turned to glare at Draco.

"How was I supposed to know she would use it to fucking slash herself with?"

"Never you mind," Madam Pomfrey said. "I can mend it in a thrice, but she needs something put on it for a while first. With a razor, there's no telling what bacteria was on it, and we don't want that cut to get infected, with as deep as it is. It's a good thing you brought her when you did, she's lost a lot of blood, and she looks ghastly. If you'd waited any longer, she wouldn't be with us right now."

Ron set her down on the nearest bed.

Hermione didn't have the faintest inkling what was going on, nor did she care. She barely had any energy left, and she just wanted to sleep. She could barely keep herself upright.

"I'm so tired," she whispered faintly, slipping sideways on the bed.

Ron reached out just in time to catch her and carefully laid her down. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep, exhausted from all her anguish.

"Poor dear," Madam Pomfrey clucked, lifting the wash cloth covering her wound and taking up a bottle of solution to douse it with before wrapping it firmly in white gauze.

"Madam, do you have any of that potion that's supposed to help with depression? She had some yesterday, but I don't know if she took any today," Harry said.

She bustled out of the room and into her office, returning a few minutes later with a goblet of the same poisonous blue liquid that Hermione drank yesterday morning. She set it down on her table and covered Hermione with a blanket.

"She'll be out of it for awhile. Losing that much blood can do that. I suggest you go back to your lessons, and I'll send someone along to find you when she wakes up," Madam said.

With a last look at their friend, Harry and Ron turned and left the hospital wing, closely followed by Malfoy.

"Look, this isn't my fault, Potter," Draco burst out once they had started down the corridor.

"Yeah, I think it is," Harry snapped.

"How do you figure?"

"Your father was the one that made her like this in the first place," Harry yelled, whirling to face Malfoy, who stopped, looking stunned at the anger on Harry's face.

"Like I could have stopped him. He would have bloody killed me and you know it," Draco snapped back.

"Let me make myself clear here, Malfoy. If I find out from Hermione that you've done something stupid, like say, touch her, say something stupid, or harm her in any way, Ron and I will come get you, and we will personally make sure that you never have to answer to your master any more. So help me Merlin, for the life of me, I cannot understand why they let you back in this year, after everything from last year, but if Dumbledore were here, he'd be keeping a damn close watch on you. Just remember what I said, Malfoy. One wrong move, and Ron and I will take care of it for you," Harry said savagely as he spun and began to march away down the hall.

Draco was left standing there, gaping after the two, as he thought of how much he hated his life right at that moment.

Hermione had to stay in the hospital wing for the rest of the day, and most of the next. As Madam Pomfrey put it, she had quite a bit to cope with, besides losing the amount of blood that she did. She had to take a Blood Replenishing potion every hour to replace what she had lost, and the nurse also saw to it that she got a double dose of that Prozac potion so she wouldn't feel so awful.

"But it's okay, because Madam Pomfrey said I need to take it once a day now, so with any luck, this won't happen again," Hermione explained to Ron and Harry in the Great Hall after the nurse had released her.

"But do you feel okay?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"I'm okay. I just wish that wouldn't have happened. I wish I could control it. I don't like losing control like that," she said quietly, shaking off the awful sense of fear that filled her when she thought about what happened the previous day.

"You'll be okay, Herms. Anybody would lose control like that after suffering what you did. And besides, it's not like the Prozac stuff won't help, right?" Ron said optimistically.

"Yeah, but I don't like to feel dependent on something just so I can feel like myself again," Hermione argued.

"Voldemort doesn't either," Harry said out of nowhere.

They all turned to stare at him.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore told me once last year that the only reason he gave up on the Sorcerer's Stone was because he didn't like the idea of being tied to something that would keep him alive. He would have needed the Elixir of Life constantly to stay alive, and he didn't like the idea of being dependent on something. You see, he's a loner, he prefers to do things his way, and being tied down to something would mean he would be less free, you know what I mean?"

Hermione understood perfectly, but she didn't like the idea of being equated with Voldemort in the sense that they both hated being tied down to something and losing their independence. Hermione had always thought that she was an independent, and she always thought she would never have to rely on something to get through life. The very thought that Voldemort had ordered a punishment that he himself would have hated gave her the chills.

"Evil bastard," she muttered.

Harry and Ron grinned.

"So, you guys are sure that you've given me every thing I needed to get done for my classes?" Hermione said finally, changing the subject.

They both nodded.

"Good."

She went back to her dinner of roast chicken and baked potatoes. She finished the little bit left a few minutes later, and sat back to relax. When she looked up from her goblet of pumpkin juice, she noticed that Malfoy was watching her. But he didn't notice that she saw him watching her, and continued to watch her.

'Odd, why the hell would he be watching me?' she thought.

She leaned a little to the left, which was more direct in Draco's line of vision. She tilted her head ever so slightly downward, making it almost inevitable that he would realize they were in direct eye contact.

It worked. When it finally penetrated that thick skull of his, he gave a quick shake of his head and turned away promptly, but she caught a trace of a smirk on his lips before he had turned completely away.

"I don't get him," she muttered to herself.

"Get who?" Ginny asked.

"What? Oh, nobody."

Ginny didn't look convinced, and she gave Hermione that annoyingly pointed look that made her cringe.

"Oh fine! I just noticed Malfoy watching me for some strange reason, and it made me feel weird. Why the hell would he be watching me?"

"To see if you're better," Ginny said simply.

Hermione snorted. "Yeah, right. He could always just ask me when I get back to the common room later. It'd save a lot of trouble."

Hermione got the feeling that Ginny wasn't being entirely truthful with her, for a few minutes later, when Ginny got up and left, Hermione saw the sort of annoying smile on her face that clearly said Hermione was incredibly dense and couldn't see what was going on.

Hermione gave a great yawn and stretched lazily. She was thinking longingly of her bed, but she knew when she got back to the common room that she had to finish that essay that Professor Vector had set her class on some entirely different concept that she definitely didn't understand.

Cursing herself silently for her little episode yesterday, and missing that lesson in Arithmancy, she got up from the table and said good night to the boys before leaving the Hall. She was so caught up in berating herself silently that she missed Draco's eyes following her out of the Hall.

She gave the painting of the lion and the snake the password and climbed through the hole and through the door, which Draco forgot to shut in his hurry out.

She ambled over to the desk that she had thrown all her books on and shuffled through the mess, looking for the piece of parchment that she had scribbled some ideas on for the essay.

When she found it, she read over what she had written and gave a great sigh.

"This is going to take forever."

She dug through her bag for her quill and shoved everything off onto the floor before dragging herself over to the bookshelves to look for a book on the related subject. She yanked it off the shelf and stomped over to the desk again, all but throwing herself in the chair and throwing the book down with a loud bang on the desk in front of her.

She flipped the book open and commenced to riffling through the pages in an uninterested way, looking for something to help her out.

But she couldn't find anything. It grew later and later. Eight o'clock. . .nine o'clock. . .ten thirty. . .it grew steadily darker in the common room as the fire began to die, and Draco had yet to return. . .

'The next page, it's got to be something on the next page,' she kept thinking, her face barely an inch from the book as her eyes grew heavier and heavier.

She fell asleep, her face hitting the pages of the book and her eyes closing into a blessed darkness. . .

_She was walking through downtown London. It was summer time, though school was fast approaching. She was thinking of the castle and how good it would be to see everyone again; Hagrid, the boys, Ginny. . ._

_She pulled out her MP3 player and listened to it as she strolled around, looking at the clothing displays in the windows, thinking of how much she wanted that awesome green jacket back at the shop around the corner and how she wished she had the money for that pretty tiered skirt in the window at the shop three doors back. . ._

_A hand shot out of an alley as she walked past, yanking her into the darkness. The scene dissolved, and she found herself chained to a wall in a cold and dark room walled with stone. A steady dripping sound could be heard in the background as she struggled against the chains, feeling an impending sense of doom fill her stomach, making her feel nauseated._

"_Well, if it isn't that darling Mudblood friend of Harry Potter's. So nice of you to join us," a cold voice said nearby._

_She couldn't scream. Whoever it was that held her captive had silenced her voice, making it impossible for her to make even the smallest sound._

"_Nobody to hear you scream, Granger. It's just you and me, and I've got all the time in the world, all the time in the world indeed. . ."_

_The man stepped out of the shadows, and she found herself face to face with Lucius Malfoy. She struggled harder against the chains as he came closer, his cold eyes boring into hers._

"_It's time you learned what happens to people who associate themselves with Harry Potter and swear to fight against the Dark Lord, Granger. You're parents saw what could happen, and they met a sticky end. But I think I'll have a little fun with you before I finish you. Such a waste of beauty it would be if I couldn't take advantage of it before killing you, what a waste it would be. . ."_

_When she realized what he was talking about, she struggled all the more harder against those forbidding chains, and felt the skin on her wrists rub raw and bleed against the rusted metal._

_Tears welled in her eyes and the silent sobs she was crying filled her throat as Lucius's cold hand traced down her cheek and his other hand went to the zipper of her jeans. There was nothing she could do, nothing at all. . .nobody to hear her scream. . .nobody to discover her chained to the wall and about to lose the last bit of innocense she had. . ._

_A fierce surge of fury flooded her as she felt Lucius tear her knickers away, leaving her exposed in the cold, damp room as he turned his attention to her shirt and bra._

'_This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't real, this can't be. . .it can't be. . .'she kept thinking, closing her eyes tight to keep the tears from escaping._

_But it was, and she screamed a silent scream as he entered her roughly, a scream that nobody could hear but her and her mind. . ._

A hand shook her shoulder roughly, punctuating her scream with a cry of shock.

"Hermione! Wake up, Hermione! It isn't real, whatever it is, it isn't real! Wake up!"

Her eyes snapped open. She was still in her common room, her face pressed against the accursed Arithmancy book, her cheeks wet with tears, the screaming that was filling the room coming from her mouth, her voice unsilenced.

She sat up slowly, turning to see whose hand was on her shoulder. It was Draco.

"Are you all right?" he asked in an uncharacteristically quiet and concerned voice.

She ran a hand over her face, wiping away the tears and the horror of her nightmare.

"I. . .I think so," she said faintly, swaying a little in her seat.

His hand reached out to steady her. "Why are you still up?"

". . .trying to finish this damn Arithmancy essay before tomorrow. . .don't understand the lesson at all. . ."

"I'll finish it for you. Come on, I'll help you up to bed. How are you feeling?"

She stood shakily and stumbled around the chair, his hand still on her shoulder, his other arm around her shoulders, steadying her as he helped her up the stairs.

"I'm okay," she whispered, wondering why she was even allowing him to touch her.

"What were you dreaming?"

The light went on overhead as they entered her room. She winced at the brightness and clumsily stumbled over to her bed, collapsing onto it and yanking the covers over her.

"I can't tell you."

The mattress sank a few inches as he sat down next to her. A hand went to her face, attempting to smooth the hair away from her face. She shrank away from that hand. . .the same hand that had traced her cheek while the other went to her jeans zipper. . .

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She shook her head against her pillow, scooting away from him and that hand.

"I'm. . .I'm just tired. . .stress. . .everything. . .can't deal with it right now. . .just need to sleep. . ." the words tumbled out and over each other as she tried to get what she just dreamed out of her head.

"Get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

The hand patted hers, which she had left out in the open, before retreating. The light went off overhead and her door closed, leaving her in the dark and afraid that she could wake up to see Malfoy Senior standing over her, his hand going towards her cheek. . .

She sat up in the dark, scooting to the far corner of her bed, her back pressed up against the headboard, her knees drawn up to her chest protectively, her arms, one still bandaged, around her knees, hugging them closer.

She began to rock back and forth silently, letting her tears fall, trying to forget. . .always just trying to get back to that sense of normalcy that she had before. . .before her parents had been taken from her, before everything in life had turned so wrong. . .back to when it was so much easier to get up in the morning and believe that everything was going to be okay, and life wasn't such a struggle. . .

She stayed huddled in the corner of her bed all night, refusing to go to sleep, for fear of what would greet her when she woke up.

It was a terrible way to live, but she knew no other way. The old Hermione had died that day with her parents, and her life had been upended horribly. She had no other alternative to life. Just keep looking over her shoulder, fearing the day that would come when she knew she must die, to keep Harry alive, to keep everyone alive, it all came down to her, and she wasn't ready to die. . .she wasn't going to give up without a fight. . .


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Nine**

"Hermione, you look terrible."

She looked up from the dregs in her cereal bowl and shrugged as Harry, Ron and Ginny sat down on either side of her.

She had crawled out of her bed at dawn, as her room began to turn grey with light. She had taken a blasting hot shower and dressed and made herself presentable before Malfoy even woke up. She had come down to the Great Hall an hour ago, and slowly made her way to the bottom of the cereal bowl alone. Only now did the Great Hall really start to fill up.

"I'm all right," she heard herself answer them.

"No you're not. You look like the walking dead."

"Thanks, Ginny."

She heard them muttering next to her and found that she didn't want to put up with them. She got up from her place, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

"I'll see you later."

She ignored them as they called for her to come back, and brushed past Malfoy at the doors when he attempted to ask her how she was feeling. She had no other intention other than making her way to Madam Pomfrey for a draft of that damn potion. . .

She had noticed, as she crammed her books into her bag in the common room, that Draco had stayed true to his word and finished her Arithmancy essay for her. She had read over it hastily, and found that it was exactly what she needed. But when she heard his bedroom door open from upstairs, she quickly escaped to the Great Hall. She had no intention of coming face to face with him so soon after last night.

"My dear child, you look terrible. What's wrong?" Madam Pomfrey cried when she saw her.

"So I've been told," Hermione said rather shortly. "I'm fine. I just need my potion."

The nurse cast her a rather suspicious eye as she pulled out a bottle of the potion and poured some into a goblet. Hermione drank it down in one gulp and left the hospital wing without another word. She picked her way down to the dungeons for Potions and found herself sitting there, staring at the table in front of her for the next twenty minutes as she waited for Harry and Ron to join her.

"Hermione, what is the matter with you today?" Ron asked in an undertone as Professor Slughorn began to take the roll, albeit loudly.

She shrugged. "I'm not entitled to a bad day every once in a while?"

Ron leaned in. "Hermione, in your case, there is no such thing as a bad day every once in a while. Every day is a bad day."

He struck a nerve.

"For your information, Ronald Weasley, I have had _some_ good days since it happened. Yesterday wasn't as bad as the others. Today I just don't feel spectacular. Is that okay with you? I didn't know I wasn't allowed to have a bad day. I'm sorry if I've offended you in any way. Perhaps from now on I'll just let you know what kind of mood I'm in when I first wake up, shall I? Maybe then you'll have a better idea as to how I feel and whether or not you should feel like speaking to me, since I'm not allowed to be a bitch around you!"

And with that, Hermione grabbed up her bag and moved to an empty table. Slughorn didn't notice.

Hermione thought privately that she would be lucky, very lucky indeed, to close out the day without throttling someone first.

Draco didn't know what the _hell_ was wrong with him.

Honestly, what was wrong with him? He was suddenly being nice to Granger? Where the hell did that come from? And since when did he think it was okay to call her Hermione?

'Damn it, damn it, damn it!' he cursed to himself as he walked along by himself from the hospital wing, where that crazy nurse and Potter and Weasel had ganged up on him.

He was not supposed to be nice to her. At all costs. It could ruin everything. He was absolutely not supposed to get chummy with her. It was very, _very_ bad. How could he afford to be nice to her when he had that damn spy, that Nemesaris woman, breathing down his neck? His father would see to it that he and Nemesaris had a cozy little chat before long, and when they did, dear God, heads would roll.

'God damn you, Draco. This is not cool! You're supposed to be the one to murder her, dammit! And here you are being all buddy-buddy with her. What the hell is the matter with you?'

For the rest of the day, and most of the next, he continued to yell at himself every given moment; that is, every moment that wasn't spent attempting to learn the stupid and useless things they were trying to cram in their heads in class.

And then, she was at dinner that night in the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey had released her, and she looked much better than she did. Her face had lost that awful chalky color from the previous day, and her lips were no longer dangerously white. She looked like her old self again.

So beautiful. . .and her long silky brown hair. . .sad almond eyes. . .

"Draco!"

"Shit!" he muttered, snapping out of his trance and tearing his eyes away from Granger, but not before noticing that she had seen him looking at her.

"God damn it, Pansy, what do you want?" He said, his characteristic smirk playing about his lips for God knows why.

He automatically tuned Pansy out as she rambled on about something or other that was definitely not interesting to him.

". . .so I was just wondering if the rumors were true?" Pansy finished.

"What? Rumors? What are you talking about?"

Pansy sighed and took on a look of pained patience. "Well, there's been rumors floating around that the Head Boy and Girl are going to be planning a Christmas ball. Is it true?"

Draco snorted. "This is the first I've heard of it."

Pansy looked slightly crestfallen. "So they aren't true?"

"Pansy, how the hell should I know? Like I give a rat's ass about that kind of stuff anyways. If it is true, then whoopity-fucking-doo. I don't care. Now go away."

She pouted. "Well, if it is true, I want to be the first to know what you're planning. I want to be able to get a dress and stuff way before hand. And I want to go with you. Wouldn't that be fun?"

He growled low. "Goddamn Pansy, what part of get the fuck away from me do you not understand? I am not telling you a goddamn thing about it when I do find out, and I certainly am damn well not going with you. Find someone else who wants to get herpes from you, won't you?"

From the severely affronted look on her face, he could tell he had struck a nerve. With a strangled sound something like a shriek and snarl, she whipped up out of the seat next to him and flounced off down the table, casting him a very nasty look.

Feeling slightly pleased with himself, he went back to his steak and kidney pie.

Later, he decided he would head down to the old common room for some fun with his friend, Blaise Zabini. It had been awhile since he had been to the old common room, and he missed it slightly, with the dark, closed in feeling it brought about, and he missed torturing the little first years.

He whiled away the hours down in the Slytherin common room, laughing it up with Blaise and ignoring the searing looks Pansy kept shooting at him every so often.

Finally, when the clock struck half past ten, he got up and said good night to everyone before making his way up to the Head tower.

When he walked in, he knew immediately something was wrong. The strangled sound of screaming was coming from the dark corner over by the bookshelves, and Draco knew immediately who it was.

Hermione had fallen asleep over a book and was now twitching and screaming in her sleep. She was thrashing about, as though trying to get away from some unseen source of terror, and tears were streaming down her face.

He shook her awake as carefully as he dared, fearing she would go crazy on him. She finally awoke, but despite her assurances that she was okay, he knew immediately by the frightened look she gave him that something was not right and she was severely shaken up about something.

Everything was fine and dandy when she allowed him to help her up the stairs and to her room. But once she collapsed onto her bed, she flinched every time he tried to brush the hair out of her face. And then again when he patted her hand in a comforting gesture before he left her alone.

He smacked himself on the head now, as he watched her stomp down the corridor after brushing past him. How could he be so stupid? She had been having a nightmare about his father, and now, her mind made a direct connection between him and his father. They looked so much alike, it was scary. And now, because of his father, he was the one person she feared the most at Hogwarts.

"If only she knew the truth about that Nemesaris woman," he muttered.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to see none other than Nemesaris herself.

"I was wondering, if time permits, if I could have a word with you?" She asked quietly, her eyes telling him that he had no choice but to agree.

He broke eye contact and nodded, casting his eyes downward. They landed on that bizarre brooch she used to fasten her silver cloak around her neck. Now that he looked at it closer, he saw it was made of some strange glass. The inside of the brooch swirled and gleamed menacingly, but it was oddly entrancing at the same time. For a moment, it was as though time stopped, and there was nothing but him and this curiously bewitching brooch.

"If you'd follow me, please, we don't want to be overheard," she said shortly, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him out of the Hall.

He remained silent as he followed her up the stairs and into her office.

"Sit," she said, pointing at the chair in front of her desk.

He sat down and kept his eyes fixed at a point near the middle of her desk.

She made a show of making sure the door was securely fastened and muttered a complex charm to make the door Imperturbable.

"Now, I believe you know who I am?"

He nodded, refusing to look up.

"Look at me, boy! I know you are not the weak and foolish boy that you try to play on. I'm a sufficient enough Occlumens to know when I'm being led on. Enough of the charade!"

His head snapped up, and inwardly he groaned as he forced himself to stare into those cold grey eyes.

"That's much more like it. Now, from what your father tells me, you have indeed promised to terminate the Granger girl, am I correct?"

Feeling slightly sick, he nodded.

"Do you have a plan as to how to accomplish this?"

Knowing she'd be reporting to his father, he again nodded, though he had no clue as to what the plan was.

She could tell he was lying.

"Do not lie to me, Mr. Malfoy. You seem to be forgetting who I am reporting to on a daily basis. You're father won't be too pleased when he finds out that you haven't been trying your hardest."

"Bloody hell! It's only the third fucking day of school and I'm supposed to have the whole damn year planned out? What the hell? Can I not attempt to lead a normal life while I'm plotting against her?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "You had best watch your tone, Mr. Malfoy. You don't know who you're dealing with. Why do you think the Dark Lord brought me into the inner fold? To play games with foolish boys such as yourself? I should think not. How do you think I managed to procure this job? By bullshitting my way into it? It took months of preparation and a damn good amount of Occlumency to be able to pass the security measures the fools have placed as requirements to the job. I will not be lied to!"

Draco gulped. "I. . .I guess the only way I saw fit was to figure a way. . .a way to. . .get close to her. . .make her feel like she could trust me. . .maybe use some of my, er, _skills_, if you know what I'm talking about."

She surveyed him through those merciless eyes.

'Goddamn it, it's like having Snape here all over again. Can't I get the hell away from him for once?' He thought.

Nemesaris suddenly smiled. "Yes, I suppose I am rather like Severus Snape. At least, I've been told so, you're not the only one."

'Shit.'

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I can enter your mind at will. Believe me, it's not hard. I'd learn a little Occlumency myself, if I were you. But yes, the plan. I suppose it will have to work. And from what I've seen of the little Mudblood, it shouldn't be that hard."

"If you only knew," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

She tilted her head. "Oh?"

"I'll only say this: Tell Father to go easy on that damn curse he placed on her. He's going to strong on it. She's going to go fucking crazy before I can finish her off. And he wouldn't want that, would he? He wants me to finish it, so I can get back in everybody's good graces, doesn't he?"

Before he could blink, Nemesaris leaned forward and slapped him with all her might across the face.

"What the hell was that for? God I'm getting tired of you beating on me all the time!"

"How dare you speak of your father and your master that way!" She shrieked. "He was good enough to buy you time with the Dark Lord, and this is how you repay him?"

Draco shrank back in his chair. 'Goddamn, this is not someone to piss off.'

"You had bloody well think it's a bad idea for someone to piss me off! Nobody gets away with pissing me off without paying the price! You're lucky I didn't kill you!"

"I'm sorry. I was merely venting some frustration, that's all," he said hastily as she drew her hand back again.

"Get out of my sight, Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco leapt from his chair and ran out the door as it flew open magically once he neared it. He sprinted down the corridor and down the stairs, leaping them three at a time. He ran flat out towards the dungeons, hoping to make it before the bell. He had one foot inside the door when the bell finally rang.

Wiping his sweaty face and clutching the stitch in his side, he walked towards the tables set up around the room. Slughorn began taking roll, and Draco was sweeping around one of the tables when he heard a slight commotion. Looking up, he saw Hermione get up and storm to another empty table, leaving Weasley gaping after her and Potter trying not to look so surprised.

Stopping for a second, Draco thought about what had just happened with him, and what he had just seen.

'The plan, Draco, think of the plan!' His father's voice sounded in his head.

'Oh great. Now I have to listen to him as my guilty conscience. This is just great, just fucking great. Screw the plan.'

His feet made the decision for him. He walked over to her empty table and set his books down. She looked up at him, her eyes frightened once more, but she tried to arrange her face in an unreadable expression.

"What happened to your face?" she whispered as Slughorn began to dish out the day's instructions.

Draco's hand went to his cheek, which was still stinging from the slap Nemesaris planted on him.

"It's nothing. Just a slight disagreement between two people. And speak for yourself, why were you in such a hurry to get out of the Great Hall earlier?"

She shrugged. "I needed some alone time. It just happens."

He gave her a disbelieving look. "Alone time? From Weasel and Potter? Since when?"

"Look, just because I'm letting you sit here doesn't mean that we have to play twenty fucking questions. Can we not talk about me for once? I'm sick of everyone fawning over me! I'm fine! If I need to talk to someone, I'll talk! Just leave me the hell alone!" She whispered furiously as Slughorn turned to face their direction.

"You two back there! Have you got what I said?" He said jovially.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said dully before getting up and walking to the storage cupboard, where everyone else was now gathered, getting ingredients.

Draco stared after her, wondering how on earth this was going to work.

Hermione came back with the ingredients she needed, and with a haughty toss of her head, sending her hair flying over her shoulder, she sat down in a huffy silence.

Draco, deciding to be his usual insufferable self, leaned in close to her ear.

"Got anything for me?"

She shivered as his breath tickled her ear. "Malfoy, go die."

He leaned away, disappointed. "What, that's the best you've got for me?"

She smirked. "What, you like when I get pissed?"

"Perhaps," he said with a smirk to rival her own.

She leaned in sweetly. "Maybe I've been sending the wrong message. You, and me, it will never, EVER work. As much as you think you can flirt and be your usual jackass self, it will never work. You can try your very hardest, but I'm sorry to say, it will not work. Oh, and Slughorn looks ready to kill you."

Draco whipped around to see Slughorn's great belly looming in his face.

"You had best get to work, Mr. Malfoy. Or it'll be no marks for you for the day, I'm afraid."

Slughorn squeezed his way over to the next table. Draco turned around and looked furiously at Hermione, who was now measuring out some armadillo bile with the measuring cup in front of her eyes, though she was smirking most severely at the moment, her tongue between her teeth, feigning a look of utmost concentration.

"You knew he was there the whole time! Didn't you?"

She smiled innocently. "I wasn't holding you up. You were perfectly capable of getting up and walking out of the conversation at any moment possible. It was your choice."

Draco got up and stalked over to the storage cupboard. When he returned, he was looking very irritated.

"Help me. Please? I'm behind."

Hermione set down the hemlock root she was slicing. "And why should I do that?"

"Because you love me."

She snorted. "Is that what that feeling of wanting to strangle you every waking moment is? Huh, I would have never thought."

Draco turned to face her full on. "Please? Hermione, come on, I said please. I never say please."

She paused, thinking. "This is true."

He could see it was working. "Please? You owe me one, I finished that Arithmancy essay for you."

She frowned. "I thought you were doing it out of the kindness of your heart."

It was his turn to snort. "You obviously haven't learned yet, Hermione. I never do anything out of the goodness of my heart without expecting something in return."

She turned to face him as well. "Then I guess you haven't changed. No."

With that, she turned back to her cauldron and began tipping some of the hemlock root into it. The solution hissed viciously and turned a horrid shade of orange, precisely what it was supposed to look like.

"You'll regret that, you know," Draco said as he put his cauldron over the flame he conjured.

"Ooh, I'm so fucking scared. What are you gonna do, hand me to Daddy?"

'She knows. Dammit.' he thought. "No, but I'll figure something out. And you won't like it."

She laughed as she stirred the potion three times clockwise, then once counterclockwise. "Please, Draco, if you threaten me any more, I'm going to run from the room screaming. Really, I'm terrified."

He could see he had no effect. Well then, desperate times call for desperate measures. He'd just have to resort to something stupid. Something he knew his father would never approve of, and something he didn't really want to do, but she was so damn hot now. . .

The rest of the day passed smoothly for the two Heads. Draco learned his lesson about daydreaming in Nemesaris' class, and Hermione didn't feel the need to rush from the room and slash herself. All in all, one could say it was a very good day for them both. That is, until the end of dinner, when Professor McGonagall came sweeping over to them separately and motioning for them to follow her out to the entrance hall.

"I've been meaning to pull you both aside. There's something that I've been meaning to tell you so you can begin planning."

Draco gulped, remembering what Pansy said to him earlier.

"This year, as a morale booster, the rest of the teachers and I have decided that the school needs to have a Christmas ball. However, we will not be doing the planning. We're leaving it up to our Head Boy and Girl."

"You're kidding, right?" Draco said desperately.

McGonagall turned to face him, her eyebrows knitted close together. "No, Mr. Malfoy, I am not kidding. You and Miss Granger will be in charge of planning the ball. No exceptions. Once you have come up with the plans, I wish for you to write them down and bring them to me. I will take care of getting the supplies you need."

Hermione nodded. "When do we need to have the plans done by?"

McGonagall thought for a moment. "I would say no later than the first of December. That gives you about two months. Take your time, think about it. We want this to be that ball that Hogwarts remembers."

With a wave of her hand, McGonagall dismissed them. Side by side, they walked silently up the stairs and down the corridors to their painting.

"_Unity_," Hermione said, walking in ahead of Draco.

For the next two hours, the common room was completely silent as the two did their homework, albeit, not without the occasional smirk in the other's direction.

"So, Hermione, tell me, why are you so pissed off at Weasel and Potty?" Draco said finally, as the clock over the mantel struck nine.

"Why should you care, Draco?" she asked, not looking up from her Transfiguration essay.

"It's unusual for you to be pissed at both of them, I was merely inquiring," he said, shrugging.

She sighed and set her quill down to roll up her essay. "I'm not mad at both of them. I'm mad at Ron."

"Why?"

"He made a rather hurtful remark about how I no longer have good days, and that I am more or less a constant bitch to him."

Draco looked up. "You're not a bitch. You just have, er, _issues_."

She laughed. "A nice way of putting it, I suppose. But, it's your father's fault."

"Duly noted."

The next couple of minutes were silent, except for the scratching of Draco's quill and Hermione's shuffling of papers.

As she headed up the stairs, Draco called to her.

"You're going to bed already?"

She shook her head. "I was just putting my things away. I was going to come back down and sit by the fire and read for awhile. Why?"

He muttered something along the lines of, ". . .just curious. . ."

She shook her head and continued her way upstairs. As she was about to reach the top of the stairs, she thought she saw something dark and small flitting around out of the corner of her eye, but quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light.

She opened the door to her bedroom and walked inside and over to her desk, not bothering to turn the light on. She set down her books and her quill, and was about to turn to leave the room with the book she planned on reading when she remembered something to add to her Transfiguration essay.

She finished adding what she thought of and corked her ink bottle. She rolled the essay back up again and turned towards the door with her book in hand.

She never made it out of the room and downstairs. What she saw standing there, in the doorway, made her heart stop. The book fell to the floor with a hard _thump_, and she let out a terrified scream before a muttered charm silenced her voice.

It was Lucius Malfoy.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Ten**

Lucius stared at her with his merciless, cold grey eyes. So much like Draco's. . .but emptier. . .

He smirked at her as he stepped over the threshold and further into her room.

"How nice to finally see you," he sneered as he closed the door behind him, muttering a curse. "Just in case my dear son decides to come see what all the fuss is about."

Her feet were glued to the floor. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to. Her knees shook as she struggled to remain upright, to fight off any sign of weakness. She couldn't make a noise, he had robbed her of her voice, and without, she felt so vulnerable. . .

He walked around her several times, and every time he passed in front of her, he gave her the once over, something she found revolting.

'Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did you have to wear the black mini skirt with the low cut blue tank?' She yelled at herself.

'Although I must say, it looks rather nice on you. Very. . ._alluring,' _a voice burst into her head as Lucius stopped in front of her and stared into her eyes.

She opened her mouth and would have screamed had it not been for a lack of a voice.

"Yes, that's right, Mudblood, I can delve into a person's mind at will and hear what they are thinking. It does you no good to attempt not to think. I can hear your fear, your panic. Much like I could hear your parents' fear and pleading after I silenced them." He sighed. "What a rush it was to hear what they were thinking as they died."

Her mind spun. The world was falling out from under her. He was taunting her with her parents' deaths. He was going to drive her to madness.

She looked up at him, the fear apparent in her eyes. She couldn't hide it. She was tired of the charade. She just wanted it to end.

"Maybe I will end it for you, Granger. You can be reunited with your parents once more," he sneered. "Then you can all commiserate with each other about how you had the pleasure of being finished off by the Death Eaters, Malfoy and Greyback. Won't that be fun?" He mocked her.

Her knees were shaking worse than ever. It was getting harder and harder to stay upright with her worst fear standing in front of her. All she could keep thinking about was the dream she had last night and how there was a damn good possibility that something to that effect was about to take place. She tried hard not to think about the dream and to not let flashes of it skate across her mind, lest Malfoy see and decide to fulfill it. . .

She stared up at him with renewed fury. She couldn't say anything, but she could certainly think it.

'Go to hell, Malfoy. You're a slimy concept of man, do you know that? Bound for hell since the day you were born, in my opinion. You killed my parents. You took them away from me before they or I was ready. But you know what? It's only made me stronger. I'm learning to deal with it. And you know what else? That damn curse you placed on that note may have put a fucking voice inside my head, but I've figured out how to stay sane, and it certainly isn't going to make me kill myself. So, feel free to just go to hell, because you can't hurt me.'

He surveyed her through those eyes, and she found herself desperately wishing that they belonged to Draco. He was so much more different now. It was weird, how she was longing for him.

Suddenly, Lucius raised a hand and backhanded her across the face.

It was enough. She crumpled to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. The tiny spot of hope that she had allowed to grow within her flickered, and died. Lucius kicked out at her, but she rolled over on the floor and attempted to scramble to her feet. She had just realized, and he must not have noticed, _the bathroom door._ It was hidden in shadow at the moment, and he hadn't seen it.

She flung herself forward and tried to reach the door. She was just mere centimeters away from it and had her hand outstretched to grab the knob when Lucius grabbed her around the middle and threw her away from the door.

She flew across the room and slammed into the low back of her desk chair, which succeeded in knocking the breath right out of her. Her head spun as she gasped for air, but then he was back again, bringing his hand back and bringing it across the same cheek.

She collapsed to the floor again, feeling her energy drain away as she thought of how much longer she could deal with this.

But then, just as she was about to concede to her lack of determination and give up, a knocking sound filled the room.

"Hermione! Are you all right in here? I heard you scream, and then thumps and stuff. Are you okay? Hermione? Are you in there?"

'Draco!' She yelled in her head, knowing it would do her no good.

Lucius whipped around as the banging continued.

"Hermione! Answer me! I'm worried about you!"

Lucius let out a disgusted snarl and pointed his wand at the bathroom door.

"That will take care of him!" He exclaimed triumphantly. He turned around to face Hermione but. . .

"OY!"

She was crawling slowly past him as his back was to her, trying to get to the door and figure out how to get it to open.

He lunged for her, but again she rolled across the floor and sprang to her feet, launching herself at the door as Lucius struggled back to his feet.

She threw herself onto the door, hammering and beating on it, trying to get the blasted thing to open. She couldn't speak, but she could make a hellish racket, and that was what she was going to do.

Lucius let out an ominous snarl as he yanked her away from the door.

The door knob rattled, but Draco couldn't get in.

"Hermione! HERMIONE! What's going on in there?" He yelled in agitation.

Hermione was flailing away as she struggled against the death grip Lucius had on her arm. She whipped around and smacked him across the face, hard.

"You bitch!" he roared in anger.

The door knob stopped rattling.

'No! No, no, no! Draco come back! Come back!' She screamed in her head.

Lucius let out a cackle. "Looks like my son has given up, Mudblood! You're all mine now! And I do believe I'll have some fun with you, much like I had fun with your mother and that blonde secretary of theirs, what do you say? And I do believe I saw a flash of something like a dream in that pretty little head of yours. What do you think of me fulfilling it?"

Hermione lost all hope then. She knew she was done for. She was a lost cause. Draco left, she didn't have a voice to scream, she had no energy left to fight, and now Lucius was telling her that he was going to take the last of her innocence away from her.

The world was coming to an end, and there was nothing she could do. She began to tremble all over in the most imaginable fear. Lucius cackled again and picked her up around the middle, throwing her over his shoulder.

'This cannot be happening. It's a dream, just like last night. This is not happening. I am not going to go through this, it's a dream, just a dream. . .' she thought helplessly as he threw her onto her bed, pulling out his wand again and conjuring ropes around her wrists, tying her to the bed.

But she knew it wasn't a dream once he climbed onto the bed with her. There was no escaping this nightmare, not this time.

Draco sprinted down the corridors and up several flights of stairs, until he found what he was looking for. That accursed painting that signified Gryffindor tower. He skidded to a halt in front of the painting of a very fat woman in a pink dress.

She looked down loftily at him. "You, young man, are not a Gryffindor."

"Like I didn't know that," he said coldly. "I need to speak to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, it's an emergency."

"Oh, an emergency, is it? Your girlfriend break up with you?"

His face turned bright red, quite an accomplishment for someone as pale as him. "So help me God, woman, if you do not find Harry and Ron for me, I will go psycho on your ass. And it won't be pretty. For your information, their best friend Hermione is in trouble, and I need them, NOW!"

All at once, at the mention of Hermione, her face rearranged into a look of concern. "Is she in much danger?"

"GODDAMN IT, YES! WHAT DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU WOMAN?"

"What the hell is going on? And what are you doing here, Malfoy?" came a female voice from down the corridor.

It was the she-Weasel, Ginny.

Draco could have cried with relief.

"Ginny! Ginny, it's Hermione! She's in trouble! I need Harry and Ron now! And someone needs to go find McGonagall and tell her that my father's somehow managed to get into the school! He's locked himself in Hermione's room with Hermione in it! I don't know what the hell is going on because he's Silenced her voice!"

He was on the verge of hysterics. His father, alone with Hermione, in a bedroom. . .with a bed. . .it was enough to make him want to tear his hair out. His father couldn't get any from Narcissa anymore, so he had to find other ways to get off. And using people that would hurt Draco or Harry was usually his favorite thing to do. And now that Hermione had changed so much. . .

He groaned. "Ginny, please! I'm not lying!"

Her face took on a serious look. "I believe you! I believe you! I'll go dash in there and tell them to get their asses out here, and then I'll go tell McGonagall! Wait here!"

Draco waited impatiently as she ran into the Gryffindor tower. Seconds later it seemed, Ginny rushed back out with Harry and Ron on her heels.

"What's going on Malfoy?" Harry said urgently.

"No time! We have to go now! I'll explain on the way! Ginny, McGonagall!"

Ginny took off running down the corridor without a word.

As the three boys ran along, Draco filled them in.

"Somehow my father's gotten into the castle and has locked himself with Hermione in her room. And he's Silenced her voice, and I have no idea what the hell is going on in there, and I don't know what the hell he's going to do. I think Nemesaris might have tipped him off. . ."

"What do you mean, Nemesaris tipped him off? You seem to have left that out somewhere along the line!" Ron yelled as they sprinted down the stairs.

"Nemesaris is working for the Dark Lord! She's hoodwinked the staff into thinking she's good, that's how she got the job! She's a spy, a double crosser who's been sent to keep an eye on me because I was supposed to kill Hermione! But I can't do it! Not now!"

Harry shot him a furious look for not telling him this stuff earlier, but there was no time for a good telling off now, they had to save Hermione from that sick, sadistic bastard that Draco called a father.

Draco yelled the password to the painting of the lion and snake from down the corridor as they approached. They ran without stopping into the common room and up the stairs, stopping outside the door to Hermione's room.

"What's that middle door there?" Ron whispered furiously, looking around.

"The door into the bathroom."

"And is there a door into her room from there?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. But he'll have sealed that one off too," he whisper-called as Ron marched purposefully into the bathroom, his wand held aloft.

He emerged several seconds later, looking worried. "Locked. I tried everything. Nothing worked."

Draco had his ear pressed up against the door, trying to hear what was going on inside Hermione's bedroom. Since she could speak herself, he had to rely on what his father was saying to know what exactly he was doing to her. . .

Horrible images flashed through his head as he tried to get a clue as to what was going on. He really, really did not want to think of his father doing _that_ to Hermione. . .

". . .the question is how to approach this? Yes, do I go easy like I did with the secretary? Or not so nice, like your mother? Hmmm, yes indeed, quite a dilemma. . ."

Draco felt the blood drain from his face. "Oh dear Merlin," he gasped out, sliding down the door several inches.

"What?" Harry and Ron demanded.

Draco shook his head, his breathing labored. How dare that evil sadistic bastard! He never said anything about _that. . ._

Harry shoved him out of the way and pressed his ear up against the door, followed closely by Ron. Draco knelt down to listen near the floor.

The ripping of what sounded like cloth. . .as in clothes. . .the squeak of a bed spring. . .some more ripping of cloth. . .

". . .what a waste of a body on a Mudblood. They don't make them like that in the pure blood standards. . ."

Harry and Ron went as pasty as Draco.

"Dear God. . ." Ron muttered, his breathing labored.

"We need to get in there now!" Harry said wildly.

The sudden thumping of footsteps announced Professor McGonagall's arrival. She was closely followed by Ginny and professors Slughorn, Flitwick, and Sprout.

"Malfoy! Are you sure your father's in there?" McGonagall asked quickly.

He nodded, sick with apprehension as to what his father was doing to her in there.

"And you haven't been able to get in there?"

He shook his head no.

"But do you know what's going on in there?"

He nodded.

"_Well?"_

He and the other two shifted aside to let the professors take a listen. The way their faces changed rapidly indicated that Draco's worst fears were confirmed.

"Everybody try everything they know to get the counter curse! We need to get in there before. . . before something else happens!" McGonagall cried.

The air was thick with whispered charms and counter curses, the professors trying everything they knew. After several minutes of furious mutterings, the door suddenly flew open with a click. The professors charged in, yelling, "_STUPEFY!"_ as they went.

The three boys rushed in after the teachers, their wands held defensively. What they saw nearly broke their hearts.

Malfoy Senior was keeled over on the floor, unconscious. The sight of him brought the literal meaning to the phrase, "caught with his pants down." Draco glared at his lifeless form as they turned to Hermione, who had hastily been covered up by Professor McGonagall, and who was now sobbing unrestrainedly into Ginny's shoulder, her voice restored by a quiet counter charm from Flitwick.

"This is disgusting. How did he get in here?" McGonagall said, cold fury in every syllable.

"The castle is protected with enchantments! It's impossible to get in!" Flitwick squeaked. "I placed half of them myself!"

A sudden, dawning comprehension hit Draco.

"My. . ._father. . ._is an Animagus. He can change into a sparrow," he said quietly, wishing he could kill his father at that moment.

Hermione looked up from Ginny's shoulder. She looked terrible. She had a livid bruise on her right cheek, her lip was split, and she had a black eye. She drew the blanket around her more tightly as Draco's gaze rested on her.

"I. . .I saw. . .something. . .moving in the shadows. . .near the ceiling. . . as I went up the stairs. . ." she said, her voice cracking as renewed sobbing took over. "I should have kn-kn-known!"

Ginny tried to quiet her, and allowed her to bury her head in her shoulder once more.

"Professor McGonagall, I think I should be allowed to remain with her tonight. She needs someone with her. Someone _female,"_ she said, emphasizing her last as Harry and Ron looked up furiously.

"Very well. I need to go alert the Minister of what has happened. And someone needs to get this _filth_ out of here, before I am seized with the urge to do something I know I will regret," McGonagall said venomously as she kicked Malfoy Senior away from Hermione's bed. "I shall send Madam Pomfrey up to tend to Miss Granger's wounds."

She turned to the boys. "My suggestion to you three is to steer clear for tonight. Do not bother her. She's been through the mill."

They followed her out of the room and back down into the common room, where they collapsed onto the couches near the fire.

"This is fucking ridiculous. I take it that you have yet to tell McGonagall about Nemesaris. . .and yourself?" Harry said pointedly, staring at Draco.

He gulped. "I need to get to that. I'll do it later, once McGonagall's talked to Scrimgeour."

From the looks on both boys' faces, they didn't seem to think much of this, but didn't say anything. They merely contented themselves with furious looks at Draco.

"You guys think this is my fault, don't you?"

Ron nodded vigorously, but Harry didn't.

Ron stared at him. "What do you mean, you don't blame him for this?"

Harry shrugged. "I just don't. How was he supposed to know that Lucius was going to show up and do. . ._that_ to Hermione?"

"Yeah, but, he knew about Nemesaris being a Death Eater!"

Draco nodded. "I would have never thought she would have betrayed me like she did. I knew she was reporting to my father, but I didn't think she was going to tell the stupid git to show up out of the blue and take care of what I was supposed to do."

"So you're supposed to kill Hermione?" Harry asked finally.

"Supposed to, yes. But do I want to? No, I don't. If I couldn't bring myself to kill Dumbledore last year, then you know I could never kill anyone. Even as much as I despised the whole Muggle loving thing. But," he added quickly, seeing the furious looks on their faces, "I no longer think that way. After everything that's happened to Hermione, I don't think I could bring myself to hate another Muggle-born. There's no way I could ever kill her, not now."

"What are you saying, Malfoy?" Ron asked quietly, his eyes flashing in anger.

Good question. What was he saying? Was he realizing that there was a growing attraction for the girl that his father just violated? Did he suddenly realize that the only thing that was holding him back from killing her was the tiny bit of. . ._love _growing inside him for Hermione?

Draco looked up at Ron, almost frightened for what he was thinking. It was true, he _did_ feel something for Hermione after all.

"Weasley. . ._Ron. . ._I guess, I mean, what I'm trying to. . .okay, look, I don't know what the hell has gotten into me, but I, er, I feel _something_ for Hermione, okay? And I'm sorry, because I know that I'm not supposed to, seeing's how she's your friend and all, and if anyone has the right to be with her, then the hell is it going to be me. But that's what I'm saying, I feel something for her, and I care for her, and I would never let anything bad happen to her."

Ron looked at him for a few seconds, studying him, and then said bluntly, "You just did."

Draco bowed his head. He did just let something bad happen to her. He had let the unimaginable happen to her. And he hated himself for it. He couldn't stand to be in the common room for a second longer, and pushed himself up, heading for the door.

"I'm going to go talk to McGonagall."

They didn't try to stop him, and it was just as well, as it wouldn't have worked, and he really did need to go speak to the Headmistress.

He walked along the silent corridors, keeping an eye out for students lurking out-of-bounds this late at night. After all, he was Head Boy, and it was his job to keep the school "safe."

He reached the stone gargoyle that once belonged to Dumbledore and studied it for a second. He had no clue what the password was, and since there was a new Headmistress, he knew that all the magical candy words would probably not cut it.

He cleared his throat. "I, er, need to see the Headmistress. It's urgent."

The gargoyle remained immovable.

"Okay, um, I, Draco Malfoy, Head Boy of this school, need to speak to Professor McGonagall about a teacher, and it's very important."

Just when he thought it wouldn't work, the gargoyle suddenly sprang to life and moved to the side to reveal the revolving stone stairs. He stepped onto them and allowed them to carry him upward in tightly winding circles.

He stepped off once he reached the door, and was about to knock when he heard another voice, quite unlike the Professor's, speaking loudly.

". . .security measures need to be heightened, Minerva, it's a question of student safety now. We can't have Death Eaters breaking into the school, and, well, doing what happened to Miss Granger, now, can we?"

"Now, see here, Scrimgeour, there's an explanation as to how Malfoy got into the castle. He's an Animagus, and my guess is, an _unregistered_ Animagus. He can change into a sparrow. He must have flown in through a window or something."

Not really wanting to speak to McGonagall with the Minister of Magic there, Draco felt compelled to turn right around and leave, but he knew that his chances were greater of getting something done if the Minister heard what was going on. Raising a fist, he knocked three times and waited.

There were footsteps, and then the door was flung open. McGonagall stared at him with wide eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy, what is it that is so urgent at this time of night?"

He took a deep breath. "Professor, I need to speak to you about something important. It concerns the school's safety."

She stared at him for a moment, but then moved aside, motioning for him to come in.

"Sit down, Draco, and let's talk."

Draco returned to the common room an hour later, having spoken himself hoarse before McGonagall and the Minister. Though they were unwilling to believe him, he managed to convince Scrimgeour to give his father Veritaserum to force the truth out. Feeling it was a foolproof plan, he felt slightly more relieved as he walked back into the common room.

Harry and Ron were still there, now staring broodingly into the fire. They looked up when he sat down in the armchair nearest the fire.

"Well?"

"I think they believe me. Scrimgeour was there, and I convinced him to give my father Veritaserum to force the truth out of him. McGonagall said she'd let me know when they had a definite answer."

Harry thought for a moment, then burst out savagely, "Voldemort will have seen to it that there was no possible way for your father to divulge that information. I can feel it, he can be force-fed all the Veritaserum in the world, and it won't work. He'll still be able to lie because there's something to work against the potion, I know it!"

Ron and Draco both started.

"Harry, mate, calm down. We don't know that. Let's just hope for the best and pray that it get's Hermione some justice, okay?"

Harry flung himself further back into the couch and resumed staring into the fire. Draco and Ron exchanged a look before settling back into their seats and staring into the fire as well.

Somewhere along midnight, Ginny descended the stairs and flung herself into the other armchair.

"She's finally asleep. She only just stopped crying. I feel so bad for her. It took me ages to convince her that Lucius wasn't going to jump out of another dark corner. She won't let me shut the overhead light off, that's how frightened she is."

They all exchanged miserable looks and let their thoughts wander to Hermione and her misery. They all came to the same conclusion: if more things like this kept happening to her, sooner or later, she was going to crack, and when that happened, they feared for her life.

"I don't know how she can keep going. If something else happens, or if the Voice convinces her to cut herself one more time, it could well be the last thing she ever does," Ginny said tearfully, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Let's just hope the Veritaserum does some good, and in the meantime, let's hope that _someone_ will be able to prove her soul's other half," Harry said tiredly, wiping a hand over his face and giving Draco a pointed look.

Draco understood it to mean, "Figure out how to fix this and prove yourself her match, or I will personally castrate you."

They were all just starting to drift off to sleep along two thirty when a blood curdling scream awoke them.

Ginny looked utterly woebegone as she pushed herself tiredly from her chair. The others got up as well, but she cast them a defeated look.

"Not a good idea. She needs someone female. She'll kill you or herself if one of you walks in there."

She dragged herself up the stairs and distantly, they heard a door open and shut. They turned to look at one another.

"Guys, I swear, I will figure out how to make this work. I may look like my bastard father, but deep down, I'm nothing like him. I will get her through this, and I will break that damn curse if it's the last thing I do. I'll do it, or die trying," Draco vowed.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. They knew that it would have to work. It was the only way, and they missed the old Hermione.

Without her, their world would end.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Eleven**

Hermione woke up abruptly, panting heavily from another nightmare. All night long, her sleep had been plagued by unseen attackers, vicious whispers of her parents' deaths, and the sort of laughter that only comes from being sickly amused by something unpleasant.

She looked around and realized that she had somehow tangled herself in her bedclothes and was now situated in the far corner of her bed, farthest away from the door. Ginny had fallen asleep in the chair next to her bed, her flaming red hair falling across her face, which looked completely wiped out.

She looked around the rest of the room, noting that it looked the same as it always did. But she didn't feel the same. She never would. Lucius made sure of that. He took away the last bit of innocence she possessed. It was gone forever, no getting it back.

She untangled herself from her blankets and sat up. She was sore. Her head hurt from the smack Lucius landed on her last night, and her stomach hurt from being hurtled into the desk chair. And she was sore in just about every other place she had never thought possible to hurt. Her life was slowly falling apart around her, and it seemed like nobody was doing anything about it.

Hermione reached out a hand and placed it on Ginny's shoulder, gently shaking her awake.

"Ginny? Hey, Gin?"

A muffled sort of noise, then silence. She tried again. This time, there was a sharp intake of breath and the redhead sat up straight in the chair, looking wildly around.

"Hermione. How. . .how are you feeling?"

She shrugged, not looking at her friend. "I can honestly say I've been better."

Ginny looked unsure about whether or not to smile. "Did you sleep?"

"Some. In between nightmares."

"Do you need anything?"

Hermione looked around, trying to decide what it was that she needed. She needed her parents, she needed someone to love her again, she needed the security and the faith that she used to have that no matter what happened to her and her friends, eventually, the world would be okay again and nothing would hurt her anymore. . .

"I need a bath. And maybe something to eat."

Ginny gave her a smile that told her she was starting to feel she was okay again.

"All right. I'll go wake up the boys. You go take a bath. Take as long as you want. I'll get the bums to go get you some breakfast. It'll be here when you get out of there."

Ginny got up and started to leave the room.

"Ginny?"

Ginny turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Ginny smiled and nodded before heading out the door.

Hermione stood up and sighed. Without much conviction, she opened her wardrobe and pulled out some clothes. Her_ least _appealing clothes: a large and baggy hoodie and a loose fitting pair of running pants. She pulled out some clean underthings and then barricaded herself in the bathroom.

'It's all gone now. There is nothing left. Nothing left of the old me. I am nonexistent,' she thought sadly as she stepped into the hot bath.

Downstairs, Ginny woke the three boys up from their doze. At first, Ron and Harry looked disoriented, but quickly awoke once they realized where they were.

"How is she?" Ron asked before Harry or Draco could even open their mouths.

"She's in need of a bath and food. She's in the bath now. I told her I'd send you louses to get her some food and it'd be here once she got out of the bath."

"But she's up and out of bed? She's talking and everything?" Harry asked stupidly.

"Of course she's talking, you moron! Why wouldn't she?" Ginny retorted.

"Did she want anything in particular for breakfast?" Draco asked.

Ginny shook her head. "I think it doesn't really matter to her. Unfortunately, I get the feeling that nothing matters to her anymore. She's lost herself, guys, and I don't think she knows who she is anymore. She needs to realize that she's needed around here. She feels essentially worthless right now, and she feels like there's nothing to live for anymore."

They all hung their heads in sadness. Harry shot Draco another one of those looks, the kind that seared through him and made him realize just how important it was for him to get Hermione to realize that he was her other half, and that she would feel so much better once she realized it as well.

"Lemme go change into some clean clothes before we go down for some breakfast," Draco muttered, shoving himself out of his armchair.

"So help me God, Draco, you step one foot or stick your head in that door of the bathroom to talk to her before she's ready, I will most certainly make sure your balls become my personal property!" Ginny called after him as he ascended the stairs.

He waved a hand in response and trudged upward.

He cast the door of the bathroom a sad look, knowing full well that inside was the broken shell of the girl he needed (and wanted) to make more complete. He now realized how much it would hurt if she wasn't around anymore. Sure, they had their disagreements (and he definitely loved to piss her off) and they could yell and say horrid things to each other a lot of the time, but essentially, somewhere along the line, they had forged an inexplicable bond between them, and he had a good feeling it was because of the tie between him and his father and the awful thing that he did to Hermione's parents. He knew it wasn't just something he was feeling, he could tell she felt the same thing as well, especially when she looked him straight in the eye. She never did that before.

How had he been given this second chance? After what happened last year, he was certain he was bound for Azkaban. But miraculously, somehow, someway, he had been given another chance to prove his loyalty and show the world what a decent person he could be. And once they realized he was decent, maybe they'd all be accepting. If Hermione could somehow find it in her heart to love him, after what he did last year, and what his father did to her parents and what he did to her last night, then he knew he was undoubtedly forgiven. And that was what he wanted the most.

Hermione mulled over what her life had become over the past few months. She had come home from school at the beginning of summer, her mind still reeling from the loss of Professor Dumbledore, and felt the earth rattle with change. But she had never imagined that this is where she would be almost five months later. With Dumbledore's death came the nightmares, each night, someone else lost their life in her dreams.

With a sickening jolt in her stomach, she realized she had dwelt on her parents' deaths for the couple of nights leading up to their deaths. Was that how it was going to be from now on? Was she going to see someone else die in her sleep, only to wake up to the reality of it all?

'This has to stop. I can't keep living like this. I'll go fucking crazy if this keeps up,' she thought wildly.

'Best end it now.' The Voice had awoken.

Hermione groaned. 'Please, not again.'

The Voice chuckled. 'Nice to hear from you too. Haven't you missed me?'

'Like hell I did.'

'I must say, old Lucius did a real number on you last night. How are you handling it?'

'If you were a reality, a living, breathing person, I'd have throttled you by now,' she thought darkly.

'Oooh, touchy, touchy. You know how you could solve this?'

'By ignoring you. Shut up.'

'No, silly! Draco still keeps his razor in here, you know.'

'Where the hell else would he keep it, you fucking moron?'

'Keep in mind that you are indeed calling me a fucking moron, which, in a sense, you are really calling yourself that. I'm merely the other, darker side of your conscience.'

'The fuck you are. I know all about you. You're merely an implantation of someone's sick idea of amusement in my head. Now, if you don't mind, would you please shut the bloody hell up so I can enjoy what little pleasure I'm getting from this bath?'

'Fine, I can see you're not in the deranged frame of mind to pay me any mind. But, be warned, I will be back. And when I do come back, it's going to suck to be you.'

"Like it doesn't already suck to be me," she said aloud with a sigh.

A few minutes later, she got up out of the now lukewarm water and dried herself off, the tranquility of the bath having worn off, thanks to that damn voice.

She dressed and gave her wand a quick wave to activate the charm that would dry her hair. She brushed her teeth and then reached up to wipe the condensation from the mirror. She peered into it, studying the damage Lucius had inflicted upon her.

There was a vivid bruise on her right cheek, surrounding the cut that had apparently been made by the ring Lucius was wearing on the hand he smacked her with. Her lip was split and puffy on the bottom, and she noticed with a jolt and a sickening whirl in her mind that she had several bruises along her neck, thanks to Lucius working himself over her last night.

"Don't think about it, just don't think about it. It's over, it's done. Get over it, thinking about it will only destroy you faster," she told herself sternly.

With another few waves of her wand, she concealed the bruises on her neck and attempted to do the one on her cheek, but the one on her cheek was either too deep rooted to conceal, or there was something else going on there that she didn't know about.

With another deep sigh, she retreated back into her room to straighten things around. Once she had made her bed and put things back in order, she decided she could no longer hide from the rest of the world, and fled her room to go downstairs to join the others.

Ginny was the only one down there once she had reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked up and smiled at Hermione and motioned for her to sit down with her on the couch in front of the fire, which was crackling merrily, despite the melancholy mood that seemed to fill the tower.

"How do you feel now?" Ginny asked once Hermione sat down.

She thought for a moment, staring into the fire. Then, she shrugged. "I don't know. I know I feel like I've been ripped apart. It seems like no matter what I try to do to maintain some semblance of normality, Lucius comes along and takes it away. And now he's taken away that last bit of normalcy that I had."

Ginny leaned over and pulled her into a hug. "Just remember that we're always here for you. Don't keep everything inside anymore, Herms, it's only going to make you hurt worse. We want you around for awhile, you know?"

"I know. But after everything that's happened, do you blame me for feeling this way?"

Ginny sat back and settled cross-legged on the couch, facing Hermione. "No, I don't. But you don't have to pretend either. And don't listen to anything my stupid ass brother says either. I found out what he said the other day about you having a bad day everyday. And don't worry, I made sure he got an earful. I think you're definitely entitled to a bad day every once in awhile. And hell, if you have a few of them in a row, that doesn't make you any less normal. It doesn't matter what they all think, it's how you think and feel that does. But, Herms?"

"Yeah?"

"Despite everything that's happened, do you think you could try to give Draco a chance?"

Hermione was startled. "What do you mean, give him a chance?"

Ginny grimaced. She really didn't want to bring this up, but _someone _had to do it. "He, erm, well, the thing is, with Draco, he doesn't think of you as that filthy little Mudblood anymore."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yeah. . .and?"

Ginny's cheeks slowly became infused with color. "Oh, fine, I'll cut to the chase. Herms, he cares about you."

"He does."

"Yeah, a lot."

Hermione thought for a moment. She knew that much was apparent. She noticed he was no longer critical and harsh with her. He was nice, and on occasion, downright sweet. Hell, if finishing that Arithmancy essay that one time wasn't enough to prove it, she didn't know what would.

She felt a slight blush creep up into her face, making her bruise stand out even more.

Ginny noticed and smiled. "See? You've noticed too, haven't you?"

Hermione slowly shook her head. "I have. But it's just weird, Gin."

Ginny nodded. "I know it is. But you have to overlook it. He's not his father, Herms. Even I can tell. And I think the boys have noticed it too. They understand. Don't worry about them, we all know what's going on."

"I know he's not his father. Do you honestly think I'd settle for living with him this year if I knew he was?" Hermione asked with a wry grin.

Ginny sighed inwardly. She knew if Hermione could pull off a grin this early in the morning after everything that happened last night, then she'd be okay, at least for the moment. She only wondered how Hermione would take it when Draco explained the much deeper, more troublesome problem. . .

She didn't have to wonder long. Within minutes, the boys returned from the Great Hall. Draco carried a tray laden with food.

"Herms!" Ron cried when he caught sight of her. Then-

"Bloody hell! What the f-"

"Ron. _Calm._ It's a bruise, you've had worse playing Quidditch," Hermione cut him off.

Harry grinned at her. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione looked up at him with another wry grin. "If you all keep asking me that, I will be forced to hurt you, and that will obviously tell you that I'm not so fine anymore."

Draco's stomach twisted over when he saw her face. Her beautiful face, scarred by his father. . .

'Damn him,' he thought savagely.

"I hope you like toast and oranges, because once we got there, that's all that was left," he said now, holding out the tray to her.

"It doesn't matter, I wasn't very hungry anyways," she said softly, trying her very hardest to look him in the eye.

He gave her a small, reassuring smile, trying to tell her that everything was okay.

She gave him a quick smile and looked down at her tray.

Slightly disappointed, but not all entirely surprised, he sat down in the same armchair he slept in last night and tried hard not to look at her for too long. He would explain everything to her later.

Hermione picked at her breakfast while the others sat around her, occasionally speaking, but otherwise remaining quiet. She felt slightly self conscious about herself when they all took turns looking at her to make sure she was, indeed, all right. Her bruise and cut felt like they were ten times the size they really were when they all looked at her.

Once she had bolted down a pitiful amount of food so the others would be happy, Ginny stood up.

"Herms, I hate to leave you like this, but, most unfortunately, I have an ungodly amount of homework to plow through this weekend. I'll try to come by as soon as I get the chance. And I want to see you at dinner," she added sternly as Ron and Harry stood up to follow her to the door.

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said jokingly, saluting her friend as she walked out the door.

She turned back around to face the fire, and Draco. There was a few minutes of what seemed like uncomfortable silence, but then Draco cleared his throat.

"Are you, um, done with your tray?"

She nodded and picked it up to hand it to him. He walked over the fire and grabbed some Floo powder out of the pot on the mantel. Throwing it in, he waited until the fire went emerald green before dropping the tray in it and calling out, "The kitchens!"

"Are you going to be all right for me to go take a quick shower?" he asked, turning to face her and running a hand through his hair.

"I'll be fine. You don't have to worry so much, you know," she said softly, once again steeling her nerve to look him in the eye.

He made to walk past her, but stopped short.

"I have to worry. Who else is there to take care of you?" he asked, laying a hand on her arm.

She flinched slightly, but made herself continue to look in his eyes. "I can manage on my own."

"I know you can," he said before walking up the stairs.

She felt her skin tingle from where his hand was on her arm. She wondered what it was about a touch that could leave her insides in such a turmoil.

Twenty minutes later, Draco emerged from the shower and came back downstairs. At first glance, it appeared Hermione was nowhere to be seen. But then he saw a movement in one of the shadowy corners by the bookcases, and found her.

She had gotten up and wandered over to the books in an attempt to keep her mind occupied and off 'the incident', as she now came to refer to it in her mind.

Draco sat down on the couch and watched her meander aimlessly, back and forth, in front of the bookcases for several minutes. But at long last, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

"Looking."

"Looking for what?"

"I honestly don't know."

"You're pacing."

"I'm aware of that. I'm trying to stay busy."

"I've got a better idea. Can we talk?"

She froze. "Talk about what?"

"Hermione, come over here. Please?"

She hesitated for a second, but then turned around and walked over to where he was.

"Come here," he motioned for her to sit next to him on the couch.

Again, she hesitated, biting her lip. But then she just sat down.

"What did you want to talk about, Draco?"

"Hermione, turn around and face me. Please, look at me."

Without question, she turned to face him and sat cross-legged.

"Hermione," he started, but stopped.

She looked at him. He appeared to be thinking, trying to get his thoughts to go straight so that he could talk to her without upsetting her.

"Draco, I am okay. I assure you, I am," she said, trying to help him out a little bit.

He looked up at her, looking deep into her eyes. He saw the sadness, the pain, the loss, he saw it all. And he saw how she felt. She felt she was broken, un-fixable.

"Hermione, you don't have to hide things from me. I don't want you to."

This took her by surprise. "But I'm-"

"Hermione, I'm not my father."

Her eyes filled with tears, although she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was the way Draco said what he just did. His eyes looked so sad, like he was trying so hard to get her to believe that he wasn't anything like his father, and the way his voice was filled with some unidentifiable emotion. But the emotion was there.

"I know you're not," she said quietly, willing the tears to stay in her eyes, where they belonged.

"I can see how you're afraid to look at me. You're afraid you'll see him looking back at you."

Her lips trembled slightly. "I'm s-"

"No! Don't apologize."

She flinched at the sudden rise in his voice and looked down at her hands, which were resting lifelessly in her lap.

His hand reached out and closed over both of hers. "Hermione."

She made herself look up. His eyes looked wet too, she was sure she wasn't imagining it.

"When I realized he was in there last night, I nearly went crazy. All I could think of was that he was in there, alone with you, and I knew he was going to hurt you. And it made me feel so useless, so completely powerless, that I couldn't do something about it myself to get you out of there and away from him. My heart hurt, Hermione."

The tears were ready to overflow. She gave a sniff and nodded slightly.

"I knew the only thing I could do was alert McGonagall. I tried everything, I really did. I tried to get through that door and to you."

"I know." Her voice was quivering.

His hand went to her bruised cheek. He gently touched it to her face. "When I saw you again this morning, it felt like my heart was going to rip right in half. When I saw what he did to you, when I saw the pain in your eyes, all I could think of was, maybe the best thing for you was for me to just get out of your life, that maybe you'd be so much better without me in it. Because it just seems like all I keep doing is aggravating everything, that I'm making everything ten times worse than what it is."

Her tears spilled over. Her mouth trembled worse than ever, but she looked up at him with pain and shock.

"N-n-no! You're not m-making it worse, you're not!"

"I'm just going to come right out with it then. Hermione, I care for you way too much for someone who's in my position. I can't, I'm not allowed, but I do. And I could not possibly bear it if something else happened to you."

She saw something there, in his eyes. He wasn't lying. He was telling the truth. And she felt it too. She knew he cared for her way more than he should.

"I know you do, Draco. I can feel it. I can see it when I look at you."

"I am promising you right now, I will never let another bad thing happen to you. So help me Merlin, if I ever let another thing happen, I couldn't stand it, I'd kill myself first than let something like that ever happen again."

"You've got your chance, if that's what you're trying to ask for."

He looked up at her. She was smiling softly through her tears. Without a word, he pulled her into a tight hug. He felt her tension, her pain, and he also felt it ease slightly with his arms around her. He smiled slightly, feeling that the first barrier had been crossed, and that he could help her ease some of her anguish.

"It would be very stupid for you to leave me now, you know," she whispered softly.

"Like I would even dream of it," he whispered into her hair.

After awhile, they broke apart and sat in silence, both of them feeling as though the giant elephant that was sitting on their chests had been miraculously removed. But the thing that Draco needed to talk about the most was still gnawing on him, and he didn't want to break the peace between them now, but she had to find out sooner or later, so he could help her cross that bridge quicker.

"Herms?"

She turned to face him again, her arm propped up on the back of the couch and her hand supporting her head. "Hm?"

"We need to talk about something else, too."

She frowned. His voice was serious, even more so than it was earlier. It scared her. "What is it, Draco?"

He looked slightly scared. "We may have gotten my father, but there's someone else."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Some-someone here? At Hogwarts?"

He nodded slowly, watching her face. "They were sent here to keep an eye on me. To make sure I followed through with the plan."

"P-plan?"

He sighed deeply, not knowing how she would take this. "My father and Voldemort decided since I failed at killing Dumbledore last year, I would have to be given a much greater task to accomplish."

"What?"

He looked right into her eyes. "My father planned this. He killed your parents so that I could finish it off by killing you too. But I swore to myself when I heard the plan, I would never follow through, and that maybe, I could lie to them without getting caught and say that I had done it when I really had no intention of doing it in the first place."

A hand went to her mouth, covering the horrified expression.

"But my father could tell what I was thinking. He told Voldemort, and Voldemort decided that since I couldn't be trusted, he'd get a spy into Hogwarts to make sure I got the job done."

Her mind was spinning. She knew exactly who it was, and everything that had happened so far suddenly came slamming into place like a truck.

"It's Nemesaris, isn't it?"

He nodded. "That's who told my father to come last night. He's an Animagus, so he could easily get in without being detected. You see, I pissed her off yesterday, and she's a damn good Legilimens, and she figured out that I never had any intention of killing you. She told my father, and dear old Dad decided to come up here and finish the job for me, and then get rid of me. He has no use for a disobedient son. We would have both died last night if I hadn't figured out what the fuck was going on."

She closed her eyes briefly. "Oh sweet mother of Merlin," she whispered.

He scooted closer. "Hey, come here."

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I've told McGonagall everything. She's going to make sure there's no way Nemesaris can get you. You just gotta be on your watch too. If she wants you to do something for her outside of class, go to McGonagall, or tell me and I'll go to her. We can't give her anymore opportunities to get to you than she already has. Okay?"

She nodded her head against his shoulder. "To be blunt, this blows."

He chuckled. "It does. But you've got me, and you've got Harry and Ron and Ginny too, you know? Don't bottle it up anymore, Hermione. Believe me, I can handle whatever's thrown at me. I've had to deal with a bipolar mother and a schizophrenic father for most of my life. I think I can listen to you too. I can help you deal."

She nodded again. "You could start helping me now."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. Don't let me go. At least for awhile."

"I think I can do that."

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch, Draco holding her close, making her feel more secure and safe. Eventually, she fell asleep, feeling more safe and loved than she had in the past few months.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**A.N. **Thanks to all you guys who have reviewed so far. I love how interested you guys are in this fic, and your support means a lot. Hopefully, I'm still writing up to all of your standards, and I hope to finish this one out strong. If you're interested in the whole aspect of Draco, I have two other fics out there, "My Father", and "Imperfect" for you guys to go check out. Happy reading. . .and keep up the reviews to let me know what you think!

**Come What May**

**Chapter Twelve**

It had been two weeks since the attack, and slowly, Hermione was getting back to normal. Well, as normal as she could possibly get. It had been almost unendurable torture for her to resume her classes once she felt better. It seemed that everybody knew what had happened to her, despite Draco, Harry, Ron, and Ginny all keeping the unspoken agreement of silence.

There had been an outburst of muttering and stares when she walked into the Great Hall that morning with her head held high, trying to keep the last of her dignity in tact. She sat down with the boys and Ginny at Gryffindor table and ignored what was going on around her, including the ignorant wankers who were actually standing up to have a better look at her.

It also seemed that Draco was a newfound celebrity once more at Slytherin table. It was common knowledge that he and Hermione shared the same common room, so he was bound to know all the juicy details.

"Draco, darling, tell us what happened to Little Miss Mudblood over there. Is it true your father attacked her?" Pansy Parkinson simpered while hanging onto his left arm.

He turned to face her slowly. "So help me Merlin, woman, if you _do not_ get your hands off me, I will hex you to all hell. What happened to Hermione is _none _of your business, and if it involved my father, that certainly as hell is not your business either. Get the fuck away from me, and stay the fuck away from me. Don't talk to me again."

She glared at him for a moment, then removed her hands. "Well," she said with a half laugh, "it doesn't really matter anyway, what you say. _Everyone _is talking about it. Everyone has their own tale to tell. So I guess even if you did tell the truth, there would still be, _rumors_ floating around. Wouldn't you say?"

He stood up so quickly the whole table turned to stare at him.

"Go fuck yourself, Pansy. Merlin knows you need it."

He walked over to Gryffindor table to where Hermione and the others were sitting. The whole table glared at him as he approached.

He tapped Hermione on the shoulder. She turned around and looked up at him, a tiny smile on her face.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm getting there," she said, deciding to be somewhat truthful.

Harry and Ron were looking up at him, wondering what he wanted. They weren't glaring, but they weren't smiling either.

"Erm, can I sit with you guys? The Slytherins are being assholes, and I'd prefer not to keep their company today." Draco said.

Hermione scooted over without a word and allowed him to sit down.

When the rest of Gryffindor realized this, it was as though someone had pushed a mute button. The whole table went silent.

Harry noticed. "You all can go back to what you were doing. He's not going to contaminate you," he called down the table.

People instantly went back to what they were doing.

Hermione looked down at her plate. She was suddenly not very hungry anymore. She took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"I don't suppose I want to know what they're all saying, do I?" she asked lightly.

They all shook their heads.

"It doesn't matter anyways. I know someone's bound to come up to me sometime today and ask me about it," she said bitterly.

Draco placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We'll take care of it, won't we guys?"

Harry and Ron nodded vigorously, then glared around at the surrounding people, looking menacing.

"I suppose I should be used to ignoring these things by now," she said softly, her eyes filling with tears.

She brushed at them impatiently. They kept welling up on her when she least expected it. Professor McGonagall had summoned her to her office a few days after it happened to talk to her and ask her if she needed anything. Though Hermione had said no, the meeting more or less had turned into a mini therapy session, and it had helped. McGonagall had told her it would be natural for her to cry at random moments. It was her way of healing, she had said.

The day, and the rest of the week for that matter, had lasted a lifetime, it seemed to her. She was enormously relieved when Saturday arrived, feeling she could just hide away in her common room all weekend and hide away from the rest of the school population.

She awoke Saturday morning feeling profoundly happy for the first time since the attack. It was as though someone had decided that life was going to go uphill for her suddenly. True, it had been good news when Draco told her that Nemesaris had mysteriously disappeared from the castle and was no longer teaching DADA, but Hermione was almost wary of believing things were going to be better. So she just decided to take things one day at a time.

The sun had only just risen, she decided, as she stretched and peered out of her window. The grounds were frosty and chill, the grass sparkling in the light. She smiled to herself as she surveyed it all, wondering what it was about something as simple as the beauty of the morning light that made her happy.

She went to her armoire and pulled out her favorite fuzzy robe. Slipping it on, she opened her door and padded softly downstairs to make herself a mug of hot chocolate and sit in front of the fire for awhile.

Ever since the attack, she had been waking up right after dawn, refusing to sleep any more. She didn't mind really, it was better than lying there, having terrible nightmares, like she did almost every night. She tried to empty her mind every night before she fell asleep, to try and prevent these dreams, but it did her no good. Try as she might to get rid of the horrible images that would flash through her mind when she least expected it, they would always haunt her sleep.

But for now, she was happy just to be alive and breathing. It was the simple little things like the morning light and the hot chocolate she was making herself that kept her going. They were the things that reminded her of the old days, when her parents were still alive. The hot chocolate they would all drink Christmas morning as Hermione opened her presents from her parents, the times when she was a little girl and would wake up at the crack of dawn just to run into her parents' room and give them a big hug, eager to start the day.

Hermione smiled to herself as she sat down, remembering how her mother would always be so happy to see her when she would get up so early in the morning, always running into their room with a smile on her face. She remembered how it was her father who always made the hot chocolate for them on Christmas morning, always adding a little cinnamon and nutmeg to the steaming chocolate to make it taste better.

She sipped at her hot chocolate now, almost tasting the nutmeg and cinnamon. She closed her eyes, savoring the memories she would always have to remember them by.

'I promise you, I will find a way to make things right. I'll find a way. I'll get my revenge. You won't have died for no reason at all. I will get you justice, I will get myself justice. And then, only then, will I have peace,' she thought to herself.

She hardly noticed that the sun had really risen by the time Draco came downstairs. He came down to find her sitting there, on the couch, smiling to herself as she stared into the fire. She was not aware that he was in the room.

He smiled as well. 'She's remembering the good times. That has to be a good sign.'

He sat down beside her on the couch. She looked over at him slowly, still smiling softly.

"What were you remembering?" he asked.

"Christmas times in the past," she said softly, still smiling.

He looked into her eyes. She was still wounded, he could see it. But there was something else there as well. What was it?

"Speaking of Christmas time," she said suddenly.

He looked at her inquiringly.

"We have a Christmas ball to plan, sir," she said happily.

He had completely forgotten about their task of setting up a ball for Christmas. "How do you remember these things?"

She grinned. "Someone has to remember. Thank Merlin they put me in charge around here. You'd never get things done," she said teasingly.

He realized what he was seeing in her eyes. _Hope._ She had the faintest glimmer of hope somewhere inside her. That's why she was smiling so much lately. She was finally seeing the light.

"A Christmas ball it is," he said cheerfully, suddenly much happier.

She turned to sit cross-legged, facing him. "Okay, so what I was thinking. . ."

Draco could only sit there and watch her as she launched into her ideas, talking animatedly and gesturing wildly.

"Draco? Draco, are you listening?"

He quickly focused back on her. She was grinning at him, knowing full well that he hadn't heard a word she was saying.

"You should probably take some notes on this," she said, curiously watching him while conjuring parchment, quill, and ink from nowhere.

"Right-o," he said hastily.

"What were you thinking of, just out curiosity?" she asked, still watching him.

"Erm, well, just that. . .you, you look so happy today, and I'm happy that you're happy," he said truthfully.

She blushed slightly. "I feel great today. Like everything's finally going to settle down."

He could only smile, but inside, he knew that it wouldn't settle down.

For Professor McGonagall summoned him to her office a few days ago to tell him some news. The Minister had listened to him when he had requested that his father be given some Veritaserum to force the truth out of him as to what the plans were when it came to Hermione.

The Aurors had given him the Veritaserum all right. But it hadn't been much help. Lucius could only say that he had acted on information given to him to come up to Hogwarts the night he attacked Hermione. He also told them that it was, indeed, Professor Nemesaris who had given him information that Draco was not going to follow through with the plan to kill Hermione.

But it had been the last bit of information that they had gotten out of him that scared Draco the most. Lucius revealed that there was another plan in place, but he could not reveal it, because he was not the Secret Keeper for the plan. Nor could he reveal who the Secret Keeper was of the plan, because he, Lucius, was the Secret Keeper of the Secret Keeper, so to speak.

And then, there was the Nemesaris business. Professor McGonagall had dismissed her from the castle, and she just disappeared. Nobody knew where she went. And by the time that they had gotten the information from Lucius that it was Nemesaris that had tipped him off, it was too late. She had gone from the castle and nobody knew anything of her. It became apparent then, to the Aurors, that she was Secret Keeper of the other plan in place. They were doing everything in their power to track her down and place her into custody, but in Draco's opinion, they were going about it ridiculously slow. It had been almost two weeks since she had left the castle, and almost a week since they found out the information from Lucius.

So now they could only wait until the supposed plan took place, unless the damn Aurors found her sooner.

"Draco? What is it?" Hermione looked suddenly concerned at his silence.

"Nothing, it's nothing, I was just thinking of some stuff for the ball, that's all," he lied quickly.

"If you're sure. . ." she said uncertainly.

"Positive. Now, what were you saying about the ball?"

They spent most of the morning coming up with things for the Christmas ball. It was going to be the best ball Hogwarts had ever seen. The Great Hall was to be decorated lavishly, with live fairies all over the place, innumerable Christmas trees decorated in everything from tiny golden owls to miles and miles of everlasting icicles. The food was to be extravagant, ranging from exquisite French cuisine to the spicy flavoring of Mexican edibles. The entertainment was to be provided, of course, by the ever popular Wizarding band, The Weird Sisters. Dress robes, dresses, or tuxedos were to be worn, and nobody under the third year was allowed to attend, due to the lack of maturity in the younger years. To attend, you must have a partner, and so forth and so on (much like the Yule Ball of the Triwizard Tournament).

"Okay, so, I think we have a good start so far. What do you think?" Hermione looked up from the notes she had taken away from Draco and added her own stuff to.

Draco laughed at her face. She had ink spattered on her nose from her speed note taking.

"What?" she asked indignantly.

"Nothing, it's just, you have ink all over your face," he snickered.

She frowned at him. "Where?"

"Everywhere," he laughed.

She reached up and attempted to get it off, but she was missing most of the spots. Finally, Draco couldn't stand it anymore. He conjured a wet cloth and leaned in to wipe it off for her.

She stayed unusually still while he wiped it all off. She was shocked by his behavior, but it wasn't all too surprising. He had been so sweet to her since the attack. She knew he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her again. She was starting to trust him. And in the back of her mind (the one safe place she could hide stuff from that damn voice), she kept going over the conversations with Ginny, and with Draco, when he said he cared for her way too much, and when Ginny had told her that there was something there.

In truth, she knew now that he was the only one left who could save her from self destruction.

"Well," she said, snapping out of her thoughts once Draco had finished wiping away the ink, "I think we should wait a few more days before we give these notes to McGonagall, in case we think of something else. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'm really liking what we have so far," he said truthfully. "Now when Pansy asks me about it again, I can tell her that ugly trolls such as herself are not invited, due to the fact that all trolls are banned. Add that one in there, will you?"

Hermione giggled. "That's horrible."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You do realize this is _Pansy_ we're talking about, right?"

"Yes, but it's still horrible. I may hate the girl with an undying passion, but it's still horrible."

"Still got a soft spot in that heart of yours, eh?"

"Always will."

She sighed and rolled up the parchment, which had grown to an alarming length, due, in part, to her meticulous note taking and making sure everything was explained in detail. She was _not_ going to let this ball be a failure. She had to put all her efforts into something.

"Well, I'm off to get dressed," she said, standing up and walking up the stairs.

"Need any help?"

She froze halfway up and looked back. Sure enough, the characteristic Malfoy smirk was on his face.

"Gee, I don't know. After all, I'm a brainless git who has no idea which way the shirt's supposed to go on and if the zipper's supposed to go in the front or the back on my jeans. You idiot! Of course I don't need help. Perhaps, if you try hard enough, then maybe, one of these days. . ." she trailed off, realizing she was letting this go down a very dangerous road.

His face was froze in a look that suggested he was about to dive from a springboard. He too realized where she was going with this.

She cleared her throat and hurried up the rest of the stairs and all but threw herself into her room to hide her now crimson face.

She leaned against the closed door, breathing heavily. Did she just almost admit out loud that she felt something for Draco?

She smacked herself on the forehead. 'You idiot! You just came dangerously close to revealing that you love the guy! You have to wait until you're absolutely certain that this isn't just some game he's playing to get closer to you. After all, what proof is there that he's on our side now?'

She shook her head. 'Just because there's no proof doesn't mean he isn't.'

'Ah, yes, but since when can a Malfoy be trusted?' The Voice was back once again.

She groaned. 'Can you ever keep your mouth shut?'

'Nope. Especially when you think to yourself. It's not a good idea, you know, if you don't want to hear from me.'

'You should learn to keep your nose out of my business. It isn't nice.'

The Voice snorted derisively. 'My dear child, I reside in your head! Consider that for a moment, if you will.'

Hermione realized that she was once again conversing with the Voice. 'You know, I'm getting really tired of having conversations inside my head. Shut up and stay the hell out of my head, will you?'

'Ah, but if you haven't noticed-'

'SHUT UP!'

'Fine,' the Voice said sulkily before going quiet once more.

"Thank Merlin," she breathed in relief, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

Meanwhile, Draco decided he'd go find Harry and Ron and have a little chat with them, knowing full well that he was probably the only one that McGonagall confided her information in. They had a right to know, after all, Hermione was just as important to them as well.

He glanced at his watch as he walked along. It was lunch time, and knowing Weasley's stomach, they were bound to be in the Great Hall.

Draco strolled over to their table upon sighting them once he walked into the Hall. He sat down next to Harry and watched, with an amused expression, as Ron shoveled down what appeared to be his fourth helping of steak and kidney pie.

"Was there something you wanted, Draco?" Harry asked, careful to be civil.

"Funny you ask, Oh Chosen One," Draco replied, grinning. "As a matter of fact, there was something of a delicate nature that I wished to discuss with the two of you."

Ron looked over at him, his mouth stuffed to capacity.

"Well? Let's hear it," Harry said rather impatiently.

He took a deep breath and launched into the explanation of everything that had happened.

"So, to make a long story short, we're screwed because the Aurors are moving too goddamn slow to find Nemesaris, and there's another plan in place to take care of business, since I adamantly refuse to do anything anymore," Draco finished, looking at Harry.

He looked livid. "I knew it. I goddamn fucking knew it. Didn't I tell you that there would be a loophole in giving your bastard of a father Veritaserum?"

Draco looked rather apologetic. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. You had no idea your father would be that big of a prick and come up here and, well, yeah. I don't blame you."

Draco looked over at Ron, who had remained silent so far. "Well Ron? I know you probably have something to say."

"I'll see if I can't get any information out of Dad. He'll know more about it than what McGonagall's letting on about. He'll be able to tell us something. And in the meantime, we stay close to Hermione. Keep letting her know that we're here to talk if she needs it, and don't let her listen to that damn voice," Ron said, attempting to sound more sure of himself than he did.

They got up and left the Great Hall. As Draco turned to go back to his common room, Harry caught his arm.

"Just remember, you're her only chance at getting better. Don't fuck it up," he said in an undertone as Ron continued walking.

Draco nodded curtly and wrenched his arm out of Harry's grasp.

"I'll make sure she gets better if it's the last fucking thing I do, Harry, trust me."

"Funny, I don't. But I'm going to have to, now, aren't I?"

"If you want Hermione to be around for awhile, yes, you do. I'm her only shot, remember?"

He sighed and turned to catch up with Ron. Draco watched them disappear around the next corner, thinking to himself.

He rubbed a hand across his face tiredly and continued on to the common room. 'Merlin, this is wearing me down. What I wouldn't give for a good hard shag,' he thought, but instantly regretted it.

'The only goddamn way she's going to realize that she needs you is not by you dragging her off to bed. Like she would even fucking consent. Look what your blasted father did to her, you idiot.'

He sighed gustily, wishing that, by some miracle, he was someone else, with different parents, a different life, and one Hermione Granger by his side, not having to worry about staying alive, or only having memories to remember her parents by.

Voldemort screwed them both over, royally. But, with any luck, he, and Harry, and Hermione would all get their revenge.

Because paybacks were most certainly a bitch.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**A.N.** Hey guys! I'm back! I couldn't keep away much longer. The break I took helped me out greatly, and I couldn't stay away from you guys and leave you hanging like I did. Thanks to all of you who offered your support and kind words after I broke up with my boyfriend, it helped a lot to know that you guys cared.

**Dark-Illusion1:** I am much better now. Thanks for your support.

**MelancholyAnatine: **Yes, I wholeheartedly agree, boys do suck a lot. And I can assure you, I ate so much chocolate within the past week, I think I gained about ten pounds from it.

**Yuki Asao:** You were right. Things are getting better. It still hurts slightly to think that it really is over, but after a few 'girls night's out' I can say that I'm definitely liking the single life again. Thanks much!

**Insanity the Amoeba: **All I can say is 'daaaaaaamn girl!' He must be one hell of a guy to be with him for six years! I thought about your advice to totally annihilate him in public and such, but I can only say I'm really not that bitter. Although, the first night after I broke it off, it sounded pretty tempting, but, I ended it on my terms, seeing's how I couldn't put up with his crap anymore. He truly is a great guy, and I still want to be friends with him. Oh well, I guess we can't have everything in life, right?

**Thanks again guys! Now, on with the story!**

**Come What May**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Once people became bored with the subject of Hermione and Lucius, it was apparent that all that anybody could talk about anymore was the approaching Christmas ball. Nobody really knew what had been planned, due to the sworn oath of secrecy that both Hermione and Draco took. Rumors spread like wildfire throughout the castle, and Draco and Hermione found themselves unwilling targets of bombardment of question.

"Fucking hell, Parkinson! For the last bloody time, I will not go with you to the damn ball! And quit asking me! And another thing, if keep telling people that I'm going with you, I will be forced to invoke the rule that states no trolls are allowed to attend the ball! Which would immediately disqualify you from coming! Now leave me the fuck alone!"

Draco stalked away from Pansy, leaving her with a very ugly look on her face. Hermione grinned at him from her place at the end of the corridor, having watched the whole thing, waiting for Draco so they could walk to Potions together.

"I must say, you handle stress well," she said slyly.

He threw her a disgruntled look , but otherwise said nothing. He was just bursting to say more, but an amazing display of self-control kept it otherwise bottled inside.

"Oh, come on, I know you have more to say on the subject," she teased.

He grunted. "So help me Merlin, if she comes up to me one more time. . ."

"Don't grit your teeth. You'll end up with a lack of them later on in life. Relax! Don't take it so seriously! All you have to do is give her a nice 'fuck off' and that should take care of it," Hermione tried to reason.

"Have you not seen how many times I have told that walking specimen of chlamydia that I have no interest whatsoever in going with her to this damn ball? I've lost count! And as for all the stupid and pointless questions she keeps asking me. . ." he trailed off, glaring at a few passing first years, who all squeaked and ran for cover.

She giggled. "Well, you had better get a move on about getting a partner. You realize the ball is only two weeks away?"

Draco suddenly looked awkward. "Erm, yeah, about that. . ."

They walked into the dungeon for Potions and set their things down on the same table, as always.

"About what?" Hermione asked absentmindedly, pulling out her copy of _Advanced Potion Making._

"About the ball and having a partner."

She looked up at him quizzically.

"Doyouhaveanyonetogowithyet?" It all came out in a rush.

She giggled uncertainly. "Come again?"

He took another deep breath. Why the hell was he so nervous about this? He had no issues with shagging a girl he hardly knew, so what could he not calm down long enough to ask her to go with him to the damn ball?

"It's just, well, I don't have a partner yet. And, erm, neither do you, right?"

She nodded slowly, knowing where this was going, and finding it extremely hard to restrain the grin that was fighting through.

"Well, I was just thinking, you know, we planned the whole thing and stuff, and we know what's going on, so-"

"For Merlin's sake! Yes, Draco, I will go with you to the ball. That's all you had to ask," she said exasperated, laughing at the look on his face.

He sat down abruptly, numbing shock spreading through him. _She said yes. She said she would go with him. SHE SAID YES!_

She sat down next to him, shaking her head at his apparent lack of social skills suddenly, but otherwise smiling.

He looked up at her suddenly, a grin lighting his face, not at all like the usual smirk that lit his features. It was a nice change.

"You're serious, right? You'll go with me?"

"Yes, Draco. You see, when I say I will do something, I generally do not go back on it, nor do I make it up just to hurt someone."

He scowled at her, realizing there was a hidden message in that. "I take it I'm supposed to learn from your example?"

She smirked. "Glad you caught on so quick."

He opened his mouth to say something, but, as timing was usually not so nice to him, the rest of the class filed in and Slughorn appeared at the front of class, calling for them to all settle down and get ready to brew the next potion in their books.

The rest of the day passed by quickly for Hermione, who found herself grinning at the slightly things. She was truly happy for the first time in a long time.

"What are you grinning at?" Harry asked happily as they sat down for dinner in the Great Hall.

Ron was already shoving down his chicken casserole on Harry's other side.

"Oh, I'm just happy, that's all. Things are starting to look better," she replied, twirling her fork around on her plate, not realizing she was fantasizing about the ball.

"Something must have gone well today, you haven't grinned like that in a long time," Harry commented.

"Hmmm. Yeah, I suppose," she said dreamily, watching, in her mind's eye, herself dancing the night away with Draco.

"You know, the way you're acting right now, you could give old Luna Lovegood a run for her money," Ron said through a mouthful of sprouts.

Hermione looked up, startled. "Wha-what?"

Harry and Ron both grinned. "That got her attention."

"So, come on, tell us, what's got you in such a great mood?" Ginny asked, sitting down on Hermione's other side.

She grinned at her redheaded friend, letting the obvious twinkle in her eye speak for itself.

"Oh my Merlin! It's happened! He's finally grown himself a set of balls!" Ginny laughed, hugging Hermione hard.

The boys were looking extremely confused.

Ginny scoffed at them. "So, what are you wearing? How are you doing your hair? Make up? Come on, I need details here!"

Ron looked between the two girls several times, trying to figure out what was going on. "Harry, mate, are you understanding any of this?"

He shook his head. "Not a word. Which is saying something, considering how much we've been putting up with this lately."

Ginny turned around to face them. "You guys are idiots, you know that? Hermione's been asked to the ball!"

The confusion instantly left their faces.

"By who?" Ron asked stupidly.

"Malfoy," Harry said, comprehension dawning on him rather quickly.

"Finally got there, have you?" Ginny teased.

"Oh, shut it," Ron said sourly, turning back to his dinner.

Hermione looked over at him and his sudden change of mood. "Oh dear."

Ginny turned Hermione to face her. "Don't worry about him. He's just jealous because he knows he's not the world's greatest person when it comes to asking girls out. Well, in Lavender Brown's case-"

"Ginny! Shut up!" Ron hissed.

"What? I was merely saying, you displayed some remarkable skills when it came to Lavender. Although, I'm pretty sure you guys never exchanged more than a 'hello' or a 'good bye' in that relationship. At least, not that I ever saw. All I ever saw was you two firmly attached at the-"

"Come on Ron, we've got Quidditch practice, mate," Harry said, quickly cutting Ginny off in an attempt to keep the next war from happening.

Ginny grinned sweetly at her brother, who was now looking as though he would like nothing better than to throttle her.

Hermione looked amused. "You do know how to piss him off, Gin. I'll give you credit where credit's due."

"What can I say? It's part of my charm."

"So are you going with Harry to the ball, then? I want to hear all about it. . ."

Dinner was spent trading details about what was going to happen the night of the ball. Ginny would be going to the ball with Harry after all, despite the fact that Harry kept adamantly refusing to be with Ginny for fear of her life. Ginny would be wearing robes of the palest gold imaginable, with matching ballet flats. As for her hair and make up, it was yet to be decided upon.

"I'll probably just wave my wand around and let the magic decide what it wants to do with my hair. And as for my make up, well, I'll just put the minimal amount on. After all," she smirked here, "Harry likes the more natural look, if you know what I mean."

Hermione grinned. "Sounds like you've got everything under control then. It should be a blast, but I won't say anymore on the subject. Draco and I swore ourselves to secrecy until the night of the ball."

Ginny pretended to pout. "Not even the slightest little thing? Nothing of great importance that wouldn't matter?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not a word, Ginevra."

As the ball approached, however, Hermione found it harder and harder not to say anything about it to Ginny, as her excitement was growing.

She figured it had to be a start, being excited for something as simple as a ball. But it was important to her, to be able to go to something as normal as a ball after everything that had happened over the past months.

She had everything all planned out for what she was to wear and what to do with her hair. She had planned it all out almost as soon as she and Draco had finished with the final details of the ball. Draco had been pressing her for details on what she was wearing, so he could "match" her colors, but she refused to tell him.

"Just wear black, it goes with everything, silly," she kept telling him.

But he wouldn't listen to her.

"So help me Merlin, Hermione, if I have to break into your room and find what your wearing, I will!" he exclaimed after her retreating back as she went upstairs to her room.

"Hmmmm, guess I'll just have to seal my room with a complex locking charm, then," she muttered to herself with a grin.

Of course, the thought of him breaking into her room let her imagination run a little wild. She knew she was starting to feel better due to the sudden, dirty thoughts coursing through her mind.

'_Oh the possibilities. Imagine him breaking into my room while I'm asleep. I know he feels something for me. Imagine me waking up to that beautiful face mere inches from mine. . .'_

She shook her head, causing the scandalous thoughts to disappear. "I have got to control that," she told herself firmly.

She definitely didn't want to hear the Voice's take on her thoughts either. That was the last thing she needed right before the ball, to have another _lovely_ chat with the Voice. And she definitely did not want to have another breakdown, not now, not after having gone almost a month without one.

She prided herself on the fact that she hadn't had to take any of that Prozac potion lately either. She was getting back to normal, and by remembering happier times with her parents, she was able to keep a more positive frame of mind.

Yes, things were starting to look up for Hermione. And if she could have foreseen what was to come at the ball, she would have been even happier to know that life could become so much better for her.

The night of the ball had come. It was Friday evening, their last day of classes before their Christmas holiday started.

For Hermione and Draco, the day was hardly what you could call 'stress free.' Professor McGonagall had insisted on their supervision of the Great Hall three hours before the ball began, which, in Hermione's opinion, was highly ridiculous, seeing how she and Draco had outlined everything for the decorations in their preparation plans, and figured any idiot with half a brain could figure out what to do.

Needless to say, when they returned to their common room, an hour and a half before the ball was to begin, their tempers were running extremely high.

"For the life of me, I do not understand why they could not figure out what we wanted done. We didn't even do anything while we were there! It was a complete waste of time! All McGonagall had to do was supervise and make sure things were being done according to the fucking diagrams we had drawn out! I mean, what the hell!" Hermione yelled as she stalked into the common room ahead of Draco.

The portraits of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin looked down upon her, wearing shocked expressions.

"Young lady! Do watch your language!" Slytherin called down to her from his position above the fireplace.

Draco watched, with a bemused expression, as she told Slytherin to go do something that Slytherin would have never imagined doing. Come to think of it, the rational Hermione probably would have never said what she did, either.

Slytherin looked highly offended, looking for words to tell her off, but otherwise failing.

"Hermione, do think of who you're talking to. The dear founder of my beloved House," Draco said slyly as he walked upstairs.

She growled at him as she followed his footsteps. "Don't push it, Draco. That was complete rubbish we had to do and you know it."

He held up his hands in defense once they reached the landing. "Hey, don't take it out on me! I'm just as pissed as you are! We both need showers, and right now, we are down to about," he consulted his watch, "a little under an hour and half for us both to get showered and ready."

She stopped, looking shocked at the lack of time they had. "Well, then, I guess I'll shower first, since I'll take longer to get ready."

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but decided it would be wise of him to not piss off the girl he was taking to the ball further.

"Go ahead, but make it _fast_," he muttered, retreating to his room.

She took the fastest shower she could ever imagine taking while getting ready for something as important as a ball. With a towel wrapped firmly around her, she peeked into Draco's room to tell him the shower was free, then retreated hastily into her room before he could come barging in on her with nothing but a towel on.

Hermione pulled out her dress robes and her matching heels and proceeded to dress quickly so that she would have enough time to fix her hair and put on her make up.

She peeked into the bathroom to see if Draco was out of there yet once she had finished dressing and, seeing the bathroom empty, hastily went back in to use the mirror over the sinks.

Draco glanced at the clock over his mantle in his room and saw they had a half hour to get dressed and down to the entrance hall, where every one was to gather before the ball was to begin. With a disgruntled sigh, he threw on his black tuxedo and quickly laced up his black dress shoes.

He wandered over to the bathroom door and knocked sharply.

"Hermione? Are you in there?"

"Yes! I'm almost done! Give me five more minutes!" came the yelled response.

"We have a half hour left! You had better hurry it up a little!"

"Keep it up pal, and you're going to end up walking around ball-less!"

With that, he turned around and walked quickly away from the door, preferring very much to keep his manhood intact.

With one last glance in the mirror, Hermione stepped back and smiled, satisfied with the end result of her hair and make up job.

"Well, Draco, if this doesn't get your attention, I'm not exactly sure what else to do," she muttered, fixing a few stray curls in her hair style.

With ten minutes left until they were due down in the entrance hall, Draco retreated back downstairs into the common room to wait for Hermione. He had no doubt in his mind that she would look amazing, due to the fact that she was refusing to tell him what all she had planned to wear.

Tapping his foot with impatience, he again looked at his watch. Five minutes to go. He started to pace. Dammit, Hermione, hurry it up already!

"Hermione! We've got five minutes to get down there!" he bellowed, turning around with every intention of going upstairs to drag her down if he had to.

His breath caught in his throat when he turned around to see her gracefully descending the stairs. He was at a loss for words when he saw her.

She saw the look on his face, and smiled sweetly. This was exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

She was wearing floaty, satin dress robes of deep purple and silver and pink. The neckline stopped just under her collarbone, and she wore a pretty, sparkling choker of rhinestones matching the colors of her robes. Her hair was curled wildly into full banana curls and pulled back carefully and secured with sparkling rhinestone bobby pins. She had accented her almond eyes with a combination of light purple and silver eyeshadow, and a dash of mascara to lengthen her lashes. Pale pink lip gloss graced her smile, and a touch of shimmer powder along her collarbone made her radiant.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and seemed to glide over to where Draco was standing.

"Well?" she asked, twirling around for him to get a better look.

He forced himself to swallow. His mouth had suddenly gone dry, and his brain seemed to have ceased function.

"I, erm, you look, huh. . .you're amazing," he finally managed to babble out.

She smiled even wider, revealing her straight and white teeth. She looked him over as well.

Draco wore a simple black tuxedo with a white shirt under his jacket. His bow tie was black, but accented with silver and green threading. His hair, normally messy and unruly, was carefully combed into place.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Although, it would do you better to stick your eyes back into your head," she teased.

He gave his head a little shake and saw the sparkle in her eyes.

"Well, shall we go?" he asked, offering her his arm.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do believe we shall," she said, taking his arm and allowing him to lead her out of their common room.

When they reached to top of the stairs to descend down into the entrance hall, they found it packed with students, all wearing their very best attire. They all looked up expectantly at the two, as though waiting for some sort of word.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Christmas ball!" Hermione said graciously, nodding to professors McGonagall and Flitwick, who promptly opened the doors to the Great Hall.

Immediately, music began filling the hall as everyone shunted forward to go inside. There were many exclamations of delight and awe as the students took in the decorations.

"Well, let's get this over with," Draco said, descending the stairs with Hermione still on his arm.

Everything in the Great Hall looked exactly as they had wanted. The extravagant Christmas trees, decorated lavishly, were everywhere. Icicles hung from the walls and the candelabraEnchanted candles floated in midair, and Christmas lights, which were live pixies, fluttered over each of the small tables situated around the dance floor.

On the far wall, where the High Table normally stood, a platform had been set up, upon which the Weird Sisters were now playing, much to the delight and enthusiasm of their fellow students. However, before the dancing was to begin, the Christmas feast was to take place.

Students were situating themselves at all the small tables, and picking up the menus that sat at each place setting. Many of the older students knew what to do to get their food, and after a few minutes of decisive reading, placed their orders with their plates.

Hermione looked around happily, taking in the enthusiasm and excitement of those in attendance.

"I think we've been a hit, Draco," she murmured as he led the way over to the table where Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Ron's date, Luna Lovegood, sat.

Ginny squealed in delight as she saw Draco and Hermione approach, ecstatic at how happy Hermione seemed to be with Draco beside her.

Harry and Ron looked around at her squealing, and Luna smiled vaguely at the two as they sat down.

"Hermione! Ahhhh! You look so amazing!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Thanks Gin! You look good too! And Luna, I love your robes!" Hermione gushed.

Luna again smiled vaguely and pulled at the sleeve of her blue and green spangled dress robes. "I've had these for awhile. It's nothing."

The boys were looking amazed at Hermione's appearance and overall happiness.

Hermione was barely aware of what she was eating as they all ate their way through dinner. Once everyone had finished, the Weird Sisters took up a much more faster paced beat, and soon, the tables were cleared away to make more room on the dance floor for everyone.

It seemed, this time around, Ron and Harry were much more compliant to dance with their dates than at the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament. Hermione had definitely never seen them happier; Harry dancing crazily with Ginny, who was red faced and laughing, and Ron, who was being taught some bizarre moves, thanks to Luna.

The music slowed considerably, and almost automatically, everyone and their dates were wrapped around each other.

Draco pulled Hermione close, hoping his nervousness wouldn't show, as his hands were shaking slightly as he rested them on her hips.

Hermione leaned into him, feeling, if possible, happy enough to burst. She rested her head on his shoulder, having taken her heels off to dance in bare feet. He smelled tantalizing, like fresh air, cinnamon, and that delightful musky guy scent. She breathed deeply, letting her mind go blissfully blank.

Draco tilted his head to rest on top of hers. He inhaled her sweet scent, something like vanilla and almond. He felt so content and at peace with the world at the moment, nothing, not even his father and everything thing else messed up in his life, could bring him down.

He felt her sigh happily into his shoulder and smiled. This was how it was supposed to be: they were supposed to be happy together and he was supposed to be her savior. He was going to make things all right again, and they would figure out a way to make all the madness go away. He not only needed to be there for her, but he wanted her. In every way imaginable. When this change had come, he had no idea, but at that moment, he knew that she was his, and he was hers, and nothing was going to come between them.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?" Draco asked when the song had ended.

Hermione nodded and allowed him to take her hand. They walked out of the Great Hall and out onto the frosty grounds, breathing in the cold night air and admiring the full moon above them.

They followed the path down to the lake, not speaking, not needing to. They stood at the shore of the lake, watching the moon reflect far out on the water where it wasn't frozen yet. The water moved slightly in the chilly wind, distorting the moon's reflection.

Without realizing she was cold, Hermione shivered.

Draco immediately noticed, and slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Draco," she said softly, looking up into his eyes, which twinkled down on her.

"Not at all."

"I mean, for everything. Thank you for helping me deal. Thank you for taking me to the ball. Thank you for being the shoulder to cry on when I needed it. Thank you for-"

"Shhhh," he said, placing a finger to her lips.

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness and hope. She had come a long way because of him, and for that, she would be eternally grateful.

"There is no question any more about it, Hermione. I'm here for you, always," he said quietly, letting his fingers trace along her jaw.

Her hand lifted and rested on top of his.

"Draco," she whispered.

His lips met hers softly, asking. She felt warmth spread from her fingers down to her toes. This was what she had been looking for.

And he was here to stay.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**A.N. **Wow, so apparently, you guys were all waiting for that moment when Draco finally kissed Hermione, huh? You were probably all ready to kill me for dragging it out that long, but, alas, I'm horrible when it comes to getting to the point of any story I write. I tend to over-analyze things, and take my time developing things. But anyways, I just wanted to tell you now, this is not going to be a happy chapter. After all, for every good thing that happens in here lately, there seems to be ten bad things that happen. Ah, well, since you guys love me so much, you'll put up with it. I can only hope. Anyways, read on, and try to enjoy it. Oh, and, I wrote this while listening to Coldplay's "Fix You," so it might help you as well to get the mood right if you listen to it.

**Come What May**

**Chapter Fourteen**

After a brief respite to the Burrow for the holidays, Hermione returned with Ron, Harry and Ginny to Hogwarts a few days before the new term was to begin.

It was hardly what you would call a relaxing holiday for her. The week before Christmas was almost unbearable for her to endure. Remembering the past holidays with her parents only brought a wrenching ache in her heart now. It seemed all progress she made before leaving the school was rapidly fading away. She was retrogressing, badly.

Draco didn't want to leave her for the holidays. But his mother had insisted on him returning home for Christmas, and as she was only happy under the influence of alcohol or when Draco was around, he figured he might as well return home just this once to keep her from killing herself from an overdose of alcohol, which was becoming more and more likely as the months passed.

Draco also wanted to bring Hermione home with him for the holidays, but he knew it would be next to impossible the way Narcissa behaved anymore. He never knew what would set her off when she was drunk; and he was pretty sure that the sight of Hermione in her house just might do the trick to send her reeling.

So Hermione was left to cope with the boys and Ginny at the Burrow for almost two weeks. She did her best to hide her pain, but it was starting to become more and more difficult, despite trying to remember the night of the Christmas Ball, which had been the happiest night of her life in a long time. She tried to remember feeling so close to Draco, and feeling almost invincible, and that everything was really going to start going right again.

But try as she might, she felt as though she was drowning again. She longed for Draco and his touch, and his sweet whispers to drive it all away, as he did every time he came near her anymore. She felt as though she was addicted to him, and without her drug, she could not find the strength to live anymore.

She could tell by observing the boys that they were happily oblivious to her plight; the only things they cared about at the moment were midday snowy sessions of Quidditch in the field behind the house, and the presents that they would be receiving on Christmas morning.

She couldn't hide it so well from Ginny, however. She often caught Ginny watching her closely, scrutinizing just what was going on inside Hermione's head. She tried her best to smile whenever she caught Ginny watching her, but in truth, she didn't think she could carry on much longer like this.

Ginny knew what was bugging her the most. The loss of her parents was coming back full force to bite her in the ass with the holiday, and she wished she could find a way for Hermione to block out the memories of happy Christmases of the past.

She wasn't exactly happy, either, with the way the boys were acting towards Hermione at the moment. It was almost as if they were indifferent to her misery. Well, she couldn't blame them at all entirely. They were so stupid sometimes! They had no idea just what was going on with Hermione at the moment, and it was royally pissing her off. She decided she would pull them aside and have a little heart to heart with them, to pull their heads out of the clouds, so to speak.

She seized her chance after dinner on Christmas Eve. She pulled them aside after Hermione disappeared upstairs to have a shower, knowing they wouldn't be so easily overheard by the distraught girl.

"What's going on, Gin? Why are you looking like you're ready to kill us?" Ron asked after she shut the door to the pantry in the kitchen.

"You two are just so happily oblivious, aren't you?" Ginny hissed, her face turning a delicate shade of red, a warning sign.

"Mind explaining yourself, sis?"

"Hermione!" she exploded.

The boys cringed, looking fearfully at Ginny.

"What about her?" Ron dared to ask.

"Have you not noticed the type of mood she's been in all week?" she hissed, her face now scarlet.

"Erm, well," Ron started.

"She is so upset at the moment, she's about ready to slash herself again! Or have you two been so wrapped up in Quidditch and the thought of presents that you are completely stupid to everything else!"

"Ginny, what can we do?" Harry asked carefully, trying not to enrage the redhead further.

"Talk to her! Let her know that we're here for her! She's hurting right now! I keep talking to her every night before we go to sleep, but she's not there! She's so wrapped up in the past, she can barely cope with the present! And she misses you two! You haven't been paying enough attention to her lately! All you care about is yourselves!"

The boys actually stepped back from her, as she was practically yelling now.

"And another thing," she started in.

The boys winced.

"Oh don't give me that, you fucking pansies! I think there's something more to her depression. Do you remember the _Daily Prophet_ at the beginning of the week?"

Harry actually snarled in anger. "How could we fucking forget? Those Ministry _fucks_ have got to be sitting on their fucking brains!"

"You mean Lucius Malfoy's release from Azkaban?" Ron asked.

Harry actually smacked him upside the head.

"The hell! Harry, what the fuck, mate?"

"You are so fucking slow sometimes, mate," Harry said with a disgusted shake of his head.

"That is _precisely_ what I am talking about, Ronald. There is something more going on in her head than what she's letting on. She's scared as hell. Who wouldn't be? After what that. . .that fucking animal did to her! This has something to do with that goddamn curse he put on her, I can feel it."

"So what do we do?" Harry asked more urgently, hearing footsteps approach the pantry.

"Well, there's really nothing _we _can technically do about the curse, I mean, that's Draco's area of expertise, he's the one that has to save her from that, and we're not due back to school for almost another week. But we need to talk to her, tell her it's okay to cry. I know she needs it. She hasn't cried a tear around me, and I know for a fact that Draco's heard her crying sometimes before she would go to sleep at night. She needs a shoulder to cry on at the moment."

The door suddenly opened to reveal a pale faced Hermione. She looked at them suspiciously.

"Why are you three in here? Everyone's wondering where you're at."

"Just having a friendly chat out of range of listening ears," Ginny said quickly, stepping out of the pantry and taking Hermione's arm. "Let's go find the others, shall we?"

She still looked at them suspiciously, but didn't say another word until they all entered the living room, where the rest of the Weasley family was congregated, as well as Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Mad Eye Moody.

Lupin opened his mouth to say something to Hermione about her dark shadows under her eyes and her apparent loss of weight, but upon catching Ginny's eye, he seemed to think better of it.

Hermione sat down on the couch between Ginny and her brother Charlie. Whether it was the look on her face or the fact that Ginny had said something to him, Charlie put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

To her horror, she found her throat closing up and tears welling in her eyes. She looked up at him and tried to say something, but couldn't seem to find the words.

He nodded understandingly and patted her shoulder again before returning to his conversation with Mr. Weasley on the dragons he was caring for in Romania.

Hermione tried to settle herself further back in the couch, in an attempt to disappear completely from the face of the earth.

How on earth was she supposed to make it without Draco here, telling her she was going to be all right in the end?

* * *

Draco almost died when his father came waltzing into the dining room of their manor three days before Christmas. The orange juice he had been attempting to swallow came right back out into his glass when he saw his father walk through the door.

Narcissa, only slightly drunk at ten in the morning (quite a miracle considering her drinking habits of late), stood up clumsily from her chair and stumbled over to her husband, slurring happily at his sudden arrival.

"Dare I even ask?" Draco muttered, looking disgusted at the sight of his mother and father together.

"Watch your mouth, Draco," Lucius said dangerously, giving his son the type of look that made Draco sure that he was in for it later on.

"Oh, can't we just get along for once? It's almost Christmas!" Narcissa sang as she swayed back to her chair to grab her glass of orange juice (which was probably spiked with firewhiskey or the like).

"Oh yes! Christmas! How could I possibly forget, Mother?" Draco sang sarcastically.

He ducked as his father's hand swung out of nowhere.

"Well, I think I'll just go upstairs and have a shower, shall I?" Draco excused himself lightly.

"I'm not finished with you, boy!" Lucius snarled, reaching out to grab his son's arm.

"Lucius, do leave him alone. It's almost Christmas, and he's had enough of your anger to last him a life time," Narcissa spoke up suddenly.

Draco was to the door when his mother's sharp cry of pain reached his ears. He whipped around to see his father towering over her, his hand raised. Narcissa was clutching her cheek, which had a brilliantly red handprint on it.

"You bastard," Draco hissed. "How the hell did you get out of Azkaban this time? Oh wait, that's right, you've got half the Ministry drawing its pay out of our pockets! How could I be so stupid? What's the matter? Couldn't get your fix beating on me and Hermione? So now you've got to take it out on Mother?"

Lucius advanced on him, his eyes glowing with rage. "You stupid little boy! I told you to finish Granger off! And what have you done? You've gone and fallen for her! What of the plan, Draco? What of your master?"

"I HAVE NO MASTER BUT MYSELF!" Draco bellowed with rage.

Lucius whipped his wand out of nowhere, but Draco was quicker.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_

Lucius fell to the floor, stiffer than a board.

Narcissa stifled a cry.

Draco walked over to her. "There, there, Mother. It's not so bad. But I can't stay here. Not with him out. He'll kill me. I defied his orders. And if he doesn't kill me, the Dark Lord will. It's not safe for me here. I need to go back to school," he explained, patting her shoulder awkwardly.

Lucius stared up at him unblinkingly, the hatred apparent in his eyes even in the Full Body Bind.

"Have a nice Christmas, Father," Draco said sarcastically, stepping over him and walking out of the room.

He knew where he needed to be. He needed to be with Hermione. He knew with his father's release that there would be troubled weeks ahead for the both of them, and he needed to be there to calm her fears when she found out.

He wasn't going to let his father destroy the both of them.

* * *

Hermione sat whimpering on the floor of their bathroom at Hogwarts, leaning against the wall and holding a knife in her hand. She rocked back and forth, shaking her head, not liking what she was hearing.

'You're a worthless piece of human waste,' the Voice hissed in her head.

"No, no. . .I'm not, I'm not!" she whimpered.

'You don't deserve to live, Mudblood! You deserve to die like your parents did! At the hands of Fenrir Greyback! He'll slash your pretty face to bits! And what's left, he'll make dessert out of! Won't that be grand?'

She shook her head violently, great fat tears leaking out of her eyes as she rocked. "Please, stop. I don't want to die!"

'Wouldn't it be lovely to see old Greyback again? Or your parents? Imagine seeing them again! Wouldn't it be grand? And I'm sure once Fenrir is finished with you, you can die miserably and alone, just like your precious parents,' the Voice hissed, every syllable dripping with sick sarcasm.

Hermione cried out, not wanting to use the knife in her hand, but really not finding any other option. She couldn't keep living like this, she couldn't keep listening to this Voice. Now that Lucius was out of Azkaban again, it wouldn't leave her alone. And she had the strongest feeling that the Voice was indeed Lucius himself now, trying to exact revenge on her for being locked away.

"Hermione?"

And now he was playing tricks on her, making her believe that she was hearing Draco calling her name. He truly was a sick human being. If he even was human.

"Hermione? Where are you?"

She clenched the knife tighter in her grasp, looking at her sad little wrist, covered in slash marks. It was never going to end, this madness. She was either going to kill herself trying to get rid of it, or die at the hands of Greyback. It was never going to end.

She brought the knife slowly down towards her wrist, finding a clear spot to make her mark. Her tears were running faster now, dreading the pain, and welcoming it. She had to take control of the situation. The pain would bring release. And with release would come numbing relief.

A hand seized her wrist before she could drag the blade across her skin.

She let out an anguished scream and struggled for the knife.

"Hermione, it's me, it's Draco. Hermione, let go of the knife! It's all right, I'm here!"

She didn't believe it was him. He wasn't here, it was all the Voice's doing. Just a figment made up to make her feel more vulnerable.

Draco managed to wrench the knife from her grasp and threw it into his bedroom before kicking the door shut. There was no way in hell he was going to let her get after it again.

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, making her look at him. His sweet Hermione, her face crumpled and tear stained.

"Hermione, what's happened to you?" he whispered, pulling her into him.

She buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed. His grip on her wrists lessened, and he held her closer, letting her cry.

"It's him! Draco, it's him! He's the Voice!" she kept sobbing into his shoulder.

"Shhhh, it's all right. I'm here. He can't hurt you," he whispered, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

Of course it was him. He wasn't going to let go until he had killed the both of them. There was no escape from this madness. Not with his father and Nemesaris out on the loose, waiting for the right moment to exact their revenge on them.

He picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom and downstairs to the couch in front of the fire. Slytherin and Gryffindor looked down upon them from their places above the fireplace.

"What ever is the matter now?" Slytherin asked indifferently.

Gryffindor gave him a dirty look. "Can't you see the poor girl is troubled? Leave them alone, I say, Slytherin, or I shall have to hex you."

Slytherin looked over at him scornfully. "You think you can scare me?"

"Here's an idea: both of you shut the fuck up, or I shall make you," Draco growled as he sat down on the couch, pulling Hermione's legs over his lap and allowing her to lay her head on his shoulder.

Both of the founders looked down on him, but remained silent.

Draco pushed her hair away from her face to look at her. She looked terrible. Her eyes had deep, dark shadows underneath them, her skin had a papery look about it, and her cheeks had a hollowed out look, as though she had given up on eating entirely.

"I don't know how this happened, but I promise, I will make it right,"he whispered fiercely, kissing her on the forehead and smoothing her hair away from her face.

Two more tears leaked from her eyes as she burrowed closer to him. She was so afraid Lucius would show up at any moment and take her away. She no longer felt safe unless she was in Draco's arms.

"I don't know what's happened to me, Draco. I'm fading away," she whispered.

"No, you're not fading away. You're right here with me. Do you understand? You're not fading away. You're not going anywhere. I won't let that happen."

"It's getting worse, Draco. I can hear them pleading with Greyback. I don't just hear the Voice anymore. I hear them too. Their pleadings for their lives. And I can hear Greyback ripping them apart. Draco, I can't stand it anymore! I want it to end! I can't live like this anymore!" Hermione was practically screaming in hysteria.

"Listen to me. Hermione! Listen to me. You are not going anywhere! You are right here with me! Don't listen to the Voice! Listen to me! You have to block them out, okay? You cannot keep listening to them! You'll only destroy yourself faster! You have to distract yourself!"

She looked up at him with wild eyes. She could hear him, but she could also hear the Voice and Greyback and her parents. She had to block them out. She couldn't listen anymore. She was going crazy.

"Draco! I can't! It's getting louder! I can't block them out! I can't concentrate! Help me! Draco!"

She tore at her hair, shaking her head, anything, anything to get rid of the madness in her head. She was dying, listening to her parents die.

Draco seized her wrists again to prevent her from tearing at her hair and face.

"Hermione! It's not real! It's not real! It's all in your head! You're here, at school, with me! Hermione, focus on me! It isn't real!"

"Let me die!" she screamed. "I want to die!"

Draco's heart just about broke into two. He didn't know what else to do with her. It seemed like she really was going crazy this time, and if he didn't do anything to help her soon, she was going to die.

"Hermione! Listen to me! It's me, it's Draco! My father and Greyback can't hurt you here. You're at school, remember? Everything you're hearing, it isn't real! I swear to you it isn't!"

The sobbing continued. Whatever his bastard of a father did to her this time, he wasn't having any success breaking through to her.

He cast his mind around wildly, trying to think of something, _anything_, that would help her. She had to know that he was there for her.

_You have to be her other half. Complete her soul._

He held fast to her wrists with one hand and brought the other to her face, cupping her cheek in his hand. He made her look at him, focus on his face.

"It isn't real. I promise you. I would never hurt you."

Her eyes were lost, hopeless looking once more. The tiny glimmer of hope he had once seen had all but disappeared.

"Hermione, I love you."

She gave an involuntary sort of gasp as her eyes locked onto his. She saw it there, in his eyes. He wasn't lying.

The voices in her head quieted a little. She no longer heard her parents.

"S-s-say it again," she quivered out, wanting to believe she hadn't heard it.

"I love you."

She gave him a water sort of smile. Her eyes were still hopeless and lost looking, and her smile almost broke his heart again, but it was a smile no less.

"Why do you care so much?" she whispered, laying her head on his chest again. "Why are you doing this?"

He ran his hand through her hair. "Because I can't stand to see you like this. It breaks my heart to watch you suffer."

"But you hated me! All along, before this year, you've always hated me!"

He gave an involuntary kind of smirk. "Well, when you go and change the way you did over the summer, what else was I supposed to think?"

She gave a whisper of a laugh. "But that couldn't have just been it. Unless you really are shallow and only like a girl for her body."

He sighed. "After my father did what he did, it made me realize just how worthless everything was anymore. I hated the fact that I was supposed to pride myself on being a pureblood. I hated the fact that I was supposed to follow in his footsteps. I wanted nothing to do with it anymore. And after I saw how hard it all affected you, I knew that I couldn't let myself fall into that lifestyle. I couldn't kill Dumbledore last year, so what made them all think that I could kill you as well? Not after I saw how you had changed, not after I saw how destroyed you were. And all because of my father? _Nothing_ is worth all that. I decided that if I wasn't going to follow the evil path, I would at least do something to right all my wrongs. I wanted to make you feel a little bit better about yourself, and make you realize that I no longer wanted anything to do with my father's lifestyle. Don't you see? I need you as much as you need me. Because without you, we both wouldn't survive."

She sighed as well. "So, in other words, we were both sort of fated to be together all along?"

He nodded against the top of her head. "If that's the way you want to look at it."

She smirked. "And who would have thought that I would have ended up with one of my greatest enemies."

He grinned as well. "Ah, well, what's that saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

She nodded sleepily. "Something like that."

He kissed the top of her head. "Go to sleep. You've had a rough day."

She leaned her head up and kissed him lightly on the mouth. She needed that. Just a reassurance that he was there.

"Okay. But it would have been a hell of a lot less trouble if you would have just let me die in the first place."

He looked down at her, shocked, but she was already asleep against his chest, a sad smile on her lips.

He couldn't let her keep thinking that way. They needed each other to survive. If she died. . .he didn't like to think what he would go through.

They really were fated to be together.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**A.N. **Yes, yes, I know, I took forever to update this time. I'm sorry. You guys can throw all the rotten vegetables you want at me, I'll graciously accept them. I just needed some time to decide where this was going and to quiet the urge to start yet another fic. I promise you though, I will finish this one and "Imperfect" or at least try to finish "Imperfect" before I start this next fic I've been thinking of. So read on, and don't shoot me if you can figure out where this one is going. Love ya guys!

**Come What May**

**Chapter Fifteen**

January faded into a dreary February, leaving the castle shivering in bitter cold temperatures. All around them, their fellow students were studying harder and harder for their approaching exams. Fifth years with their O.W.L.'s and Draco and Hermione with their fellow seventh years for their N.E.W.T.'s.

But Draco couldn't focus on studying right now. He sat in their common room in one of the armchairs next to the roaring fire, about the only warm place left in the castle. A book was open on his lap, but he wasn't looking at it. Instead, he was staring at the top of the stairs, where Hermione had disappeared fifteen minutes ago to go take a hot bath.

He was worried. She had sat down here, with him, for a good two hours after dinner, both of them trying to study with earnest in preparation of their upcoming exams. But for all the progress Draco made in an extra book he was reading on the advancement of disfigurement charms in the seventeenth century, Hermione couldn't seem to get through two pages of her own hand copied notes on the centaurs' fight to be classified as humans for their boring History of Magic class. Draco had watched her struggle to concentrate on her notes for two hours before he himself had suggested that maybe she needed a warm bath to help her relax a little so she could concentrate better.

She wasn't even trying to stay focused any more on any of her class work. She blundered through most of her homework with Draco's help, though, more often than not, she was falling asleep before it was finished and Draco was finishing it for her so she wouldn't get in trouble with their professors.

Hermione laid in the giant bathtub now, letting the hot water soak into her skin and warm her. The giant layer of bubble bath sat on the surface of the water, making her feel cozy and warm. She closed her eyes and leaned back to rest her aching head. Her head was no longer a safe place. She couldn't concentrate on her studies any longer because the Voice had taken up a never ending tirade against her. It was all she could do to fall asleep any more, and when she did, it wasn't for very long nor was her sleep deep. The Voice made sure to plague her with nightmares every night of the week, and her parents' voices followed her everywhere she went.

The lack of sleep and the Voice were clearing taking a toll on her appearance. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, try as she might to conceal them with a concealment charm. Her face was thinner than it had been, and she had lost an almost alarming amount of weight. She tried to eat as much as she could, but in truth, the sounds of her parents being tortured to death made her lose most of what little appetite she had. Though she never saw her parents dying during the day, the sounds left nothing to the imagination. And what she didn't see during the day, she saw at night.

She sighed deeply, her brow furrowing as she once again tried fruitlessly to ignore the Voice and his tirade. She wished he would just shut up already.

'You're wasting your time, you know. Trying to keep me blocked out. You never will succeed. It's just a matter of time now,' it taunted.

She yawned, wanting a peaceful night of sleep, not plagued by those terrible nightmares.

'You'll never sleep peacefully again, my sweet. I'm here to stay until the day you die and go off to join your worthless parents.'

'Go to hell,' she thought halfheartedly.

'I'm taking you with me. But, would you look at that? You're already in hell!'

'Go die.'

'After you, of course.'

Hermione gave up. It was no use. He wouldn't shut up even if she pleaded with him. Draco's father sure was a vindictive son of a bitch.

She opened her eyes again and stared at the wall across from her. The best she could do was remember how happy Draco made her feel when he was close. It was really the only thing keeping her going anymore. She wanted to give up, but she didn't want to leave Draco behind and alone.

"I hate my life," she muttered miserably, scooping some of the pillowy suds into her palm and blowing them across the room.

* * *

Draco managed a couple more pages of his book before glancing at the clock again. She had been up there for almost forty-five minutes. He didn't like to leave her alone for too long for fear that she might lose it again and find something else to hurt herself with. 

He closed his book with a snap and threw it onto the couch. It squeaked loudly at the impact.

"Oh, shut up," he muttered, glaring at it.

He walked up the stairs quietly, straining to hear any sort of noise that would clue him in on what she was doing. He peeked into her bedroom, but was greeted with darkness. She was still in the bathroom.

He stuck his ear next to the bathroom door, listening intently. There was nothing. He knocked gently on the door.

"Hermione?"

The soft splashing of water was all he got. He tried again.

"Draco?" came the muffled response.

"Can I come in?" he called softly.

"I suppose."

He cracked the door open and slipped inside. He shut the door behind him to seal in the warmth and steam that was escaping from the giant tub.

He was just able to discern a head above all the foam and bubbles floating in the water. He sat down on the side and rolled his jeans up before sticking his legs in the water.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Hermione asked softly, hearing him sigh.

He nodded, swishing his legs around to create a disturbance. "Are you all right? You've been up here for awhile. I got worried."

She sighed and gave him a tiny smile. "You always worry. I've resigned myself to that."

"With my damn father and that damn voice, it's sort of hard not to," he said lightly, trying not to make too much out of it.

She shook her head. "If it makes you feel any better, I never know when I'm going to go off the deep end. It just happens."

He smiled slightly, in spite of what she said. "No, it doesn't really make me feel any better. It's worse if you never know when it's going to happen, because then I may not be there to help you."

She shrugged, her thin shoulders rising up out of the water before slipping below the surface again. "One of the others might be there. Don't worry so much, it causes forehead wrinkles."

He splashed her for that last remark. "Quit trying to change the subject, missy. I wanna know how you really feel right now. Are you any better than you were a couple weeks ago when we came back?"

She closed her eyes briefly, resigning herself to the fact that this had come up. She really didn't want to discuss with him how she was feeling as of late. The only reason she was still here anymore was because of him, and she didn't want him to know that.

"I'm just so tired, Draco," she trembled out, trying not to give in to the despair trying to engulf her once more.

"I know. I hear you every night after you go to bed. Is it that bad?"

She shook her head. "I can't control it anymore. Before he got out of Azkaban, I could tell it to shut up and it would leave me alone. But now that he's out, I can't do it anymore. Day and night, it's all I can do to keep focused on whatever I'm doing at the moment. I'm lucky I haven't killed someone yet, I can barely focus on my wandwork and potions anymore."

"You haven't been eating enough lately, either."

She looked him straight in the eye. "Would you want to eat if you could hear your parents being ripped apart by Greyback?"

His eyes widened. "It's that bad?"

She nodded, staring down at the suds in front of her. "I can't take this anymore."

"You don't have to, by yourself. I'm here for you. I keep telling you that."

She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. "I should say, I don't _want_ to take this anymore."

He blanched. "What do you mean?"

She choked back a sob. "The only reason I'm hanging on anymore is because of you. I don't want to leave you all alone and have to deal with your father and V-Voldemort. I remember what you said that night a few weeks ago. Without me, we'd both be dead. And if I was gone, you wouldn't last long either."

He looked down at his hands. _It wasn't working._ His attempts were no longer working. He was busting his ass trying to make her live, but the fact of the matter was, she no longer wanted to live. She was making herself live only to keep him alive.

That was no way to live for anyone.

"I'm a big boy," he managed out after a few moments of silence.

"I know you are," she whispered. "I couldn't bear it if I left you like this."

"You shouldn't have to make yourself want to live because of me," he whispered fiercely.

"But I do it anyway. I am only truly happy when I'm with you. And I know you feel the same, whether or not you care to admit it."

It was true. These past couple of months had only been bearable because she was here with him. He didn't know what he would be like without her anymore. And he didn't want to think of what he would be like without her.

Without him truly realizing it, once he had figured out that she was used to the fact that they needed each other to survive, he had been subconsciously dreaming of their lives together. Oftentimes, at night, he would dream of their future. A modest wedding, a charming house by the sea, a little boy and a little girl running around the yard. . .growing old together, watching their children grow up. . .their grandchildren now running around on the shores by the sea. . .

His eyes were now full of tears. "I've seen it all, Hermione."

She looked up at him through her tears, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I. . .I've dreamt it all. I've seen our future. I've dreamt of our children and our grandchildren. I've watched us grow old together. . .I've seen a world where there is no more Voldemort, and no more of my father. I've seen it all. And I know now that it will never be."

A small sob escaped her lips. "I've seen it too, Draco. I didn't want to, it only makes things harder, but I've seen too. And I know it will never be. And I'm so afraid, Draco. I'm so scared."

He grabbed a towel that sat next to him and unfolded it before standing up. He held it open, lengthwise, for her.

She stepped out of the tub, the tears falling slowly down her devastated face. He wrapped her up in the towel tightly and held her close, allowing her to cry, allowing himself to cry.

How long they stood there, holding each other, he wasn't sure. But he knew that he couldn't stand to be alone tonight.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he whispered into her hair.

She nodded, sniffing to hold back more tears. "Let me go put something on, and I'll be right back."

She slipped away from him, her hand holding onto his until she had to let go.

He watched her retreat to her room. He didn't want her to go. He never wanted her to leave his sight. He was afraid that she would disappear completely when he wasn't there. And that's what scared him the most. To lose her when he wasn't there would surely destroy him.

He retreated to his room and threw on his flannel pajama bottoms and an old white t-shirt. He pulled the covers down on his bed and climbed in, fluffing the pillows so they would be more comfortable.

She reappeared in his doorway a few minutes later, clad in a purple shirt and some knit bottoms. He held out a hand to her, and she came to him slowly, each step costing her a little more of herself.

She slipped underneath the covers as he held them up for her to climb in. She settled herself as close to him as she could get, afraid to get too far from him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, resting his head on top of hers, which was now snuggled into the crook of his neck.

"Can we just stay like this until the end of time?" she whispered.

"I would love to."

"I'm so tired, Draco."

"Try to get some rest. I'm right here if you need me."

She nodded against his neck and settled herself even closer, if it was possible.

Draco stared up at the ceiling, willing himself not to just break down and sob. There was nothing else he could do. He would just stay with her until. . .until it was no longer possible to remain at her side. There truly wasn't a damn thing he could do anymore. He had never felt more helpless in his life.

He reached for his wand on his bedside table and flicked it at a piece of parchment and a quill. The quill set to work, scribbling furiously across the parchment.

_Dear Professor Lupin,_

_It isn't working anymore. _

_Draco Malfoy_

He flicked his wand again and the parchment sealed itself. Another flick of the wand and some Floo powder was dropped into his fire. Another flick and the parchment was dropped into the fire as well.

"To the attention of Professor R. Lupin," he whisper-called to the fire.

With a whoosh, the parchment disappeared and the fire returned to normal.

Hermione stirred in his arms with a soft whimper. She was already having a nightmare.

'God, just let the end be quick for the both of us,' Draco silently prayed.

* * *

February faded into windy March, and with it came the prospect of spring. And with spring came hope. Draco found himself hoping that the warm weather approaching would lift Hermione's spirits, and she would get better.

But his hoping was in vane. Hermione was getting thinner and thinner. It took all her willpower to force herself out of bed in the mornings and to force herself to attend another day of classes. She found no point in anything anymore. All the dreams she had ever had for herself she now threw down the drain. She didn't see the point in dreaming for anything. She had resigned herself to the fact that she was wasting away and was never going to accomplish any of the things that she had ever dreamed of.

The only thing that she could bring herself to hope for was that Draco wouldn't suffer when she was gone. She wanted him to go on and live life and exact the revenge that they both hoped to get on Nemesaris and his father. That was the only way she knew she could rest in peace, was if she knew Draco would be all right.

Ginny and the boys watched as she forced herself through another day. They knew from what Draco told them and what they saw that things were not looking good any longer. Their hopes that Draco would be able to save her were quickly fading into a thing of the past. They too wrote to Lupin, begging him to find something, anything that would reverse the effects of the curse on Hermione. He wrote them back with a fervent assurance that he was trying everything in his power to put a stop to the madness, but nothing was working.

_I've tried everything I can to try and reverse the curse. Nothing is working. It all boils down to one thing: Either Lucius, the originator of the the curse, is killed, or we lose her. I'm sorry. I've tried everything. I don't want to lose her either, but there is nothing more we can do. I'll keep looking and have Tonks find out if there's any way that we can get him back in Azkaban. In the meantime, keep her comfortable and keep her happy. And watch your backs for any sign of Nemesaris. They still have yet to find her. _

_Give Hermione my best and Tonks' as well-_

_Remus_

They all read the letter, including Draco. Their spirits fell, if possible, even lower than they already were. If Remus couldn't find anything to help, they really were powerless to help her. Like he said, all they could do now was keep her comfortable and happy and try to get her to eat more.

Ginny's face crumpled as she read what Remus wrote. "There has to be more we can do! We can't let her go like this!"

Harry and Ron pulled her into a tight hug. Draco stood there, his arms hanging limply by his sides, the letter clenched in his fist. They all looked at one another, the despair they were all feeling evident in their faces.

Hermione was going to disappear from their lives, and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it any longer.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**A.N.** Okay guys. I've been doing some thinking for this story. And I've come to a conclusion. I figure after this chapter, there's going to be one more chapter left to write. And then it shall be finished. Don't look at me like that! Okay, okay, you can throw some rotten vegetables at me again. I know you're probably hating me at the moment for ending it so soon. Oh, um, for those of you who have reviewed saying that you've cried or come close to crying so far in the story, it might be wise to have a tissue or two handy. Thanks guys, for your support, and go read and review. Love you all!

**Come What May**

**Chapter Sixteen**

After watching Hermione struggle through two more extremely painful weeks, Draco decided enough was enough. He had yet to hear anything about his father being sent back to Azkaban, most likely because the Ministry idiots were still drawing their pay out of the Malfoy bank account, and he still had not read anything in the _Daily Prophet_ about Nemesaris being caught. So he decided to have a friendly little chat with the Headmistress.

"Enter," came McGonagall's reply when Draco knocked on the Head's office door.

He walked in quietly and sat down in front of her desk.

"Mr. Malfoy. To what do I owe this visit?"

He merely looked at her. What a stupid question.

"Ah. You wish to discuss your father and Professor Nemesaris. I should have realized. Forgive me."

"Why have they not caught Nemesaris yet, Professor? How is it that she can just disappear off the face of the planet? She's a Death Eater for Merlin's sake! Surely we have spies placed to find out the Death Eaters' activities?"

She surveyed him over her spectacles. "Well, as I'm sure you've already figured out, your father is very influential in the Ministry, Draco."

He snorted derisively. "You mean he's just peddling away our money to keep himself out of prison and Nemesaris from being captured."

"That is precisely what I'm talking about. And even with the spies planted among Voldemort's followers, it is not enough. We have not been able to place any of the Order among them, so I'm afraid to say that it is the Ministry that is squandering precious time and money in order to find her. And as for your father, with his influence, there is no possible way that we are able to send him back to Azkaban, especially with no specific charge and specification."

Draco sighed. "This is a complete waste of time. There is no time left, Professor! Have you taken a good look at Hermione lately? She's wasting away to nothing! And there's not a thing I can do to help her anymore! I've tried everything. She's lost the will to live, and if she doesn't have the will, then I can't help her. And with my father out of prison, the curse placed on her is getting worse! She told me she thinks it's not just the Voice anymore, she thinks it's actually my father in her head!"

McGonagall sighed. "I know, Draco, I know. I've spoken with her. She's told me that you are her reason for living now."

"And I told her not to worry about me! I told her just to concentrate on getting better!"

Whether it was a trick of the light or something else, McGonagall's eyes suddenly looked watery. "There is nothing else we can do. I've had Remus Lupin researching left and right. But there is nothing. We have to resign ourselves to the fact that we are going to lose her."

"NO!"

Draco ran from the office, refusing to accept that this was indeed Hermione's fate. Unless some miracle happened soon, she was going to fade away.

He sprinted the whole way back to their common room, where she spent most of her days now. McGonagall had excused her from her lessons in an attempt to lessen the stress load on her.

She wasn't down in the common room itself, which meant she was either trying to sleep in her room or was in the bathroom.

He crept up the stairs quietly, just in case she was trying to sleep, and made his way to her door, which was partially shut.

"Hermione?" he called softly through the crack.

There was no answer. He opened the door slowly, in case it creaked.

Her bed was empty.

Now starting to panic slightly, he stood in the middle of her room, looking around for some sign that she had been there.

Out of nowhere, there was a horrible retching sound coming from the bathroom. He lunged for the door in one leap and yanked it open to find Hermione cowering on the floor with her head in the toilet.

He knelt down beside her and pulled her sweat soaked hair away from her greying face, whispering softly to her to reassure her that everything was all right because he was there.

She heaved what was left in her stomach from what little breakfast she did manage to eat that morning. Panting, she finally lifted her head from the toilet bowl and sat there on the floor, shaking like mad and soaked in a cold sweat.

Draco grabbed a wash cloth from the sink and wiped the sweat from her forehead and the sick from her mouth.

"What's wrong?"

"Another nightmare," she said with a shaky sigh.

Draco made the decision in a split second. He scooped her up and carried her out of the bathroom and out of her room. She weighed practically nothing now.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly, having no real strength to protest.

"Taking you to the hospital wing. You can't stay here by yourself anymore."

She nodded her head against his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut again, despite the everlasting tirade going on inside her head.

It broke Draco's heart when she couldn't even find the strength to argue with him about staying on her own. It looked like the end was coming sooner than he imagined.

He ran into Ginny a for corridors away from the hospital wing. She looked positively alarmed to see Hermione so weak and frail, not able to really walk on her own.

"What's happened?" Ginny cried, her hands going to her face.

"Shhhh! Chill, Ginny. I've decided she can't stay by herself in the common room anymore. I came back from McGonagall's to find her in the bathroom heaving what little breakfast she ate this morning. Another nightmare, is what she said. I can't leave her by herself anymore. Something might happen, and I wouldn't be there."

Ginny reached out to brush Hermione's sweaty locks away from her face. She wanted to cry as she took in her appearance. Her cheeks were sunken and waxy looking, dark circles graced her eyes, and her face was as pale as death. Draco held her as if she were nothing.

"My poor Hermione," she whispered, following Draco to the hospital wing.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Draco called as he came through the door, which was held open by Ginny.

The nurse came bustling out of her office. "Good heavens! She's wasting away to nothing!"

She bustled them over to an empty bed and told Draco to lay her down. He pulled the covers over her thin body and stepped back to let the nurse assess her condition.

"She barely eats anymore, Madam. We try to get her to eat at every meal, but she just picks. She doesn't want to. . ." Ginny couldn't bear to finish her sentence.

The nurse looked down at Hermione with a sad expression. "She'll just have to stay here. I'll do what I can for her, but as I'm sure Professor McGonagall has told you-"

"There's nothing more we can do, yes, we know, thank you," Draco snapped, his emotions getting the better of him.

"She just can't stay on her own any longer," Ginny whispered tearfully.

The two left the hospital wing only after the nurse assured them that she would contact them if anything changed.

"I'll tell the boys what's happened. Shall we meet after dinner to go see her again?" Ginny asked.

Draco nodded, his throat too tight to speak.

They went their separate ways, too wrapped up in their own thoughts to bid each other good bye.

What was he to do? His life had a purpose these past couple months, keeping her from killing herself. But now that it was all failing, what did he have to live for anymore?

A rage unlike anything he had ever felt sudden consumed him. He wanted nothing better than to find his father and Nemesaris and kill them both. It was their fault that Hermione was like this now, it was their fault that his and Hermione's lives had been destroyed. They ruined their lives, and now, Draco was going to make them pay. He was going to kill them if it was the last thing he did.

It would be his last effort to make things right. For him, for Hermione, for her parents.

* * *

Hermione laid in her bed in the hospital wing, thinking. It was about the only thing she had energy for anymore; just sitting up in bed cost her most of the energy she had miraculously built back up in her nightmare-plagued sleep.

She thought back to this time last year. What was she doing this time last year? She was worrying about Harry and his eagerness to help Dumbledore find another Horcrux and destroy it. She was battling her feelings for Ron, watching in jealousy as he and Lavender Brown snogged relentlessly in the common room night after night. The three of them were working hard at their Apparition lessons. She and Ron were listening in awe as Harry would recount his previous "lesson" with Dumbledore and retell the stories of the boy that would grow up to be Voldemort.

'Voldemort,' she thought venomously. 'It all comes back to him. Because of him, Harry lost his parents, I lost my parents, and Draco grew up believing the only thing he was good for was carrying on the Malfoy name and following in his father's footsteps. He's the reason Dumbledore isn't here with us today, finding some cure for this stupid curse!'

She was feeling very bitter at the moment, thinking of everything she would have liked to accomplish in her life, and knowing that she would never get to do any of those things. Before things took a turn for the worse, she had began to imagine what life after Hogwarts would be like with Draco, as he was the only one who completed her, and would keep her sane.

There was nothing she could do anymore. The nightmares would make her sick to her stomach, the Voice kept up his constant tirade against her, and the sounds of Greyback shredding her parents would make her lose any food she had in her stomach. She could barely sleep at night because of the nightmares, and any energy she had left after laying in the bed day after day was quickly spent trying to ignore the damn noises in her head.

She could literally feel the life slowly ebbing from her body.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over to her. "How are you doing, dear?"

She glared up at the nurse. "Other than listening to my parents die over and over, I'm just fine, thank you."

The nurse actually smiled. That was the first angry outburst Hermione had in days. But she also knew that they got slightly better before things really took a turn for the worst.

"Are you hungry, dear?"

"Would you be hungry if you were listening to what I was hearing at the moment?"

The nurse clucked her tongue. "Let me know if there's anything you need. I'll be in my office."

"How about a gun? Or my wand? Then I wouldn't have to put up with this shit anymore!" she called at the nurse's retreating back.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look back.

Hermione sunk down further into her pillows, her little store of energy spent from her little outburst.

'I just want it to be over. Please God, just let it be over,' she silently begged.

* * *

March passed into April, and the grounds suddenly brightened and grew warm. The anticipation in the castle for those taking their exams soon was almost reaching a breaking point, but for the boys and Ginny, exams were the furthest things from their minds.

Hermione now weighed a mere eighty pounds, down from her original one hundred and thirty. She had given up eating all together and now slept more and more, the only thing she could really do. She could no longer stand up and support herself, as her muscles basically wasted away to nothing. She was becoming more and more delusional as well, the lack of deep sleep was taking its toll on her sanity. One minute she would be fine, and the next she would be screaming for her parents, or for Greyback to get away from her, or she would relive the night that Lucius got into her bedroom.

It was terrible for the four friends to sit there with her, listening to her scream and moan. They did their best to make her come back to the real world and make her realize that they were there with her so she wouldn't relive everything.

Professor McGonagall came in daily to check on her, and was often seen leaving the infirmary with tears in her eyes.

There were almost daily letters from Remus and Tonks, wanting to know the very latest developments with Hermione. They would take turns writing them back, but there really wasn't much to tell them, other than they were losing her.

There was still no sign of Nemesaris. Draco's father remained out of Azkaban due to his large bank account and overwhelming influence in the Ministry.

The four of them could barely sleep at night themselves, as old memories of the days before everything happened would plague them, or they would lie awake, worrying when morning came whether or not Hermione would still be there when they arrived at the infirmary.

They attended their classes as normal behavior would dictate, but they could barely focus. The three boys didn't care that their N.E.W.T.s were just around the corner. They didn't have the heart to bring themselves to study. They knew that in different circumstances Hermione would rarely be seen without her nose in a book or she would be taking up a near permanent residence in the library.

Draco sat in his Arithmancy class, staring at a page in his book, not taking in a word on it. They were supposed to be reading the review chapter at the back of their books in preparation for their exam. Instead of thinking of Arithmancy, he was thinking about every rotten thing he ever did to Hermione in the past. His overwhelming sense of guilt was threatening to engulf him, and every so often, he would reach up to brush at his eyes.

Professor Vector knew what was going on, and didn't bother to tell him off for his lack of competency at the moment.

The door to the classroom burst open, breaking Draco from his thoughts. A timid looking third year came running into the room, panting as she handed a bit of parchment over to the Professor. The little girl was dismissed with a wave of the Professor's hand, and her eyes widened as she read the note over quickly.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are requested in the hospital wing immediately."

Without hesitation, he grabbed his books and sprinted from the room. His breath was coming in ragged puffs of air, his brain was on fire, screaming at him, his guilt and intense sadness sitting on his chest like a massive hundred pound brick.

He flew into the infirmary and stopped short. Ron, Harry, and Ginny were all standing around Hermione's bed, their tears flowing freely and without stopping.

Madam Pomfrey looked up at him, her tears threatening to overflow. "Come quickly, Draco, there isn't much time left."

He was unaware of releasing his hold on his bag. He sat in the chair next to her bed and took her hand. It was trembling.

"Draco," she whispered.

"I'm here," his voice cracked as he tried to hold back his tears.

"Just when I think everything is going to get better," she managed out, her breathing labored.

"Shhhh. Don't think about that," he quavered, brushing the hair back from her forehead.

"I'm so scared. I never thought it would all end like this."

A couple tears slipped out of his eyes. His lip trembled.

"But I'll be with my parents again," her voice was fading fast now.

"Hermione, don't go, please don't go," Draco pleaded.

Ginny let out a quivering sob while the boys sniffed and hiccuped behind him.

"We'll be together again, Draco, this isn't the end."

He was sobbing now. "Hermione, please, don't go! I love you! I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you, I love you so much it hurts! Please, don't go!"

Her eyelids fluttered. "Draco." Her grasp on his hand tightened. "I. . .love. . .you."

Her eyes drifted shut, and with a sigh, her hand went limp in his hold.

"No," he whispered, his tears running freely. "No, no, no! Hermione, no!"

He sank to his knees from the chair and let his head sink down to rest on the bed next to her. He gripped at his hair, his grief too much to bear. He felt Harry and Ron's hands on his shoulders, their grip almost painful in their own grief. Ginny sank into the chair Draco had just abandoned and was rocking back and forth, sobbing without restraint.

Hermione, once so strong and stubborn and full of pride, had finally been defeated.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

**A.N.** What happened to all my readers! Are all you guys mad at me for what I've written in the last chapter? Granted, it was rather cold-hearted of me to kill Hermione without any warning to you all whatsoever, but, even if you are all pissed off at me, you could have at least let me know! Anyways, here it is guys. The last chapter. I basically sat around all week dreading actually sitting down and writing it, because it makes me sad to see another one of my fics finished. Well, that and the fact that since I know what I want to finish it with, I know I'm probably going to end up crying myself. Grab your tissues, guys, I've got mine handy, and I know you sure as hell are gonna need them. Thanks for all your reviews and your faithfulness in keeping up with the story. You have no idea how much it means to me. Just, set your anger aside at me, and hit that little "Go" button at the bottom and leave me one last review for old times' sake. THANKS GUYS! YOU'RE THE BESTEST!

**Come What May**

**Chapter Seventeen**

The weather couldn't have been any more perfect. It was a warm spring day; the wind was soft on the skin, the sun warm on the face, and there was not a cloud in the sky. It was hard to believe then, that the whole of Hogwarts stood in a solid black mass around Hermione Granger's final resting place: right alongside her parents.

Her beautiful white casket sat in front of them all, reminding them all of what happened to the brave and prideful in the face of evil.

Draco, Harry, Ron, and Ginny stood at the very front of the black mass, waiting for Professor McGonagall to speak. Ginny was crying quietly into a white handkerchief clutched in her hands. Ron was blinking furiously, trying to quell his tears. Harry would give a tremendous sniff ever so often, and his shoulders shook from the sobs he was trying so hard to hold back.

Draco didn't know what to do with himself. He looked completely lost. His face was as pale as it ever had been, and his arms hung lifelessly by his side. A part of him had died with Hermione, and a part of him would be buried with her. It killed him to think of what could have been, had he been able to somehow overthrow the curse. His father had taken away everything he had ever wanted out of life: happiness, independence, the ability to think and choose his own path in life, and now, the only person that had ever truly loved him.

He stared at her casket. Her sweet, smiling face seemed to float before his eyes. Every good thing that had happened between them during the year. He remembered how he had abhorred the idea of them sharing a common room when he found out that she had been made Head Girl. Every taunt, every harsh thing over the years echoed in his ears.

He wished he could take it all back.

Professor McGonagall had come to stand in front of them all. They had never seen her express so much emotion before, except, perhaps, at Dumbledore's funeral almost exactly a year ago. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Her voice shook as she spoke to them.

"It is hard to imagine that such a selfless, sweet, brave person could be taken from us all. It is even harder to know that Hermione was taken from us fighting the fight that we have all been working so hard against for so long. How could evil actually prevail over Hermione's good soul?

"For that, we may never have an answer. Some of you may not have known Hermione Granger, still others," she broke off here to glare almost reproachfully at the few Slytherins who were looking bored and uninterested, "may have ridiculed her in the past. But I think that not one of you can deny that she fought a hero's fight and faced it head on until the very end. Hermione _would not give up._ I think she taught us all a valuable lesson. Walk tall and stand shoulder to shoulder with those you once counted as enemies," she looked at Draco as she said this, "and so long as you fight ceaselessly, one day, good _really will_ prevail over evil."

A single tear ran down Draco's cheek. He watched as the only person he had ever loved in his life was lowered slowly down into the ground to rest forevermore. He walked slowly over to the edge of her grave and looked down. He could hear her final words as he dropped the single red rose he was holding on her casket.

He turned and walked away. The silent mass of students parted to make a path for him. He looked neither left nor right as he walked through they all. He had only one thing left to do now. He would make everything right again.

Harry, Ron and Ginny followed him down the same path that had been cleared.

Draco stopped once he was far enough away from everyone. He turned to look back one more time upon all those who had betrayed him, who had thought he was guilty for everything that had happened the previous year. His eyes came to rest on the three who were following him. They stopped and looked at him, his grief mirrored in their faces.

Harry knew, without having to ask, what Draco was going to do. He could see it in his eyes. It was the same look he knew that he had in his eyes when he went after Bellatrix Lestrange in the Department of Mysteries when she had killed Sirius. It was the look of intense hatred and rage, the look of grief and revenge.

"God have mercy on you, Draco," he murmured quietly.

Draco spun on the spot and Disapparated, leaving behind the only three who he had actually come to trust in the past months.

Ron turned to look at Harry. "Where has he gone?"

He sighed, bone weary and feeling the oldest he had ever felt in his life. "To put things right."

Ginny clapped a hand to her mouth, looking terrified. "You don't mean. . .he hasn't gone to. . .?"

Professor McGonagall approached them, closely followed by Lupin, Tonks, the rest of the Order, and Hagrid.

"Where has Draco gone, you three?" McGonagall asked.

The three exchanged looks.

"To take his revenge," Ginny whispered.

The professor looked alarmed. "Dear Lord, he hasn't. . .!"

"My god," Lupin said. "He's gone on a bloody suicide mission!"

"He wanted to make things right," Ron muttered, realization dawning on him.

"By getting himself killed? Killing himself won't bring her back!" Tonks cried.

"It's his final duty to her. The last thing he could think of to right his wrongs, to prove that he is nothing like his father." Harry said sadly. "We never wanted to see what he could have been before."

They stood in a quiet huddle, their thoughts with Draco as he embarked on the most important journey of his life.

&&&

Draco reappeared just outside the gates to the family manor. He knew his father was there. He also knew that Nemesaris was there. Lucius would do everything in his power to make sure that a fugitive from the law was safe so long as they were involved in his cause.

"The cause ruined my life. Her life. _Our_ life together," he muttered as he walked through the gates.

He did nothing to hide himself as he walked boldly and deliberately up the front walk to the door. They would have already known he was there.

He walked through the front door and looked around. There was no sign of life on the first floor.

'Mother's probably out buying more liquor," he thought with derision.

He listened closely for any sign that his father and Nemesaris were in the house. He walked slowly up the stairs to the second floor, missing the stairs that squeaked.

He crept down the hall towards his father's study, a sure place to find him if nowhere else.

Muffled voices floated down the hall from the door that stood slightly ajar. Draco caught snippets of their conversation.

". . .putting the dirty Mudblood in the ground today."

". . .a matter of time before the Ministry comes calling again. . ."

". . .would have been well shed of it all if Draco would have killed her in the beginning. . ."

Draco walked right into the room. Lucius was seated behind his desk, Nemesaris on the couch along the wall.

"Hello, Father. Miss me?"

Lucius looked calmly at him, the intense hatred for his son carefully hidden away.

"Well, well, well. I was wondering when you were going to grace us with your presence. I've been wanting to have a little chat with you since you so rudely left here on Christmas holiday."

"I had no tolerance for dealing with the person who was trying to destroy the only person I have ever loved. But in the end you succeeded. Mind telling me why you took this away from me now?"

Lucius surveyed him closely. "Sit down, Draco."

He sneered at his father. "I'll stand, if it's all the same to you."

Nemesaris leapt up from her spot on the couch. "How dare you defy your father!"

"Shut up you stupid woman!" Draco roared. "If it wasn't for you, my father wouldn't have gotten into the castle that night and raped my girlfriend!"

Nemesaris drew her wand so fast it was hardly a blur.

"Going to kill me?" Draco asked almost bemusedly.

"I'll make you suffer, you ungrateful little brat," she hissed. "_Cru-"_

Draco whipped his wand out before she could finish. He knew what he was going to do. He remembered his dear Aunt Bella telling him that you had to _mean_ an Unforgivable Curse.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ he cried.

In a flash of green light, Nemesaris fell to the floor, dead. Draco turned to his father.

"Whatever it is, say it. Watching the love of your life be put into the ground damages your patience."

Lucius glanced at Nemesaris' body on the floor. "I see dear Bella has taught you well."

"The only thing that I ever cared to know about the Dark Arts," Draco said simply.

"None of this would have happened if you would have followed the plan all along, you know," Lucius said coldly.

Draco glared. "Ah, but that's the difference between you and I. You see, Father, there's this thing called love, and it's rather a magnificent thing. For the first time in my life, I felt like I actually belonged. She cared for me more than you or Mother have ever truly showed. You don't love me. You never have. Hermione did. And I felt like I had a purpose."

"You have a purpose, Draco. It was predetermined even before you were born!"

"And I have hated every moment that you have forced me to endure. I wanted nothing to do with your lifestyle. I am not the sick, cold-hearted bastard that you are! I don't get off by killing people for the fucking fun of it!" Draco yelled.

Still, Lucius did nothing. He merely looked at his rage-filled son. "Are you done having your little fit?"

"Don't pretend to be all calm with me, you bastard. I know you're just itching to curse the hell outta me! What are you waiting for? A damn invitation?" Draco spat.

Lucius stood and walked around the desk to face his son. He glared down his nose at the younger man.

"Don't pretend like you know anything of what goes on, Draco. You say you despise the way I live? Then how could you know anything about what goes oh? Eh? You're just another ignorant little boy who needs to be educated about the ways of the world."

"I went to those fucking Death Eater meetings! I saw your stupid Dark Lord with my own eyes. I see the hatred in yours every time I look at you! You claim you know the ways of the world? All you know is death and destruction! You live just to ruin somebody else's life! You destroyed Hermione's when you killed her parents! But apparently, that wasn't enough, now, was it? You couldn't rest until you had fucking killed her too! But that's not all! You've destroyed my life too! Denying me everything that I ever wanted out of life! You took away my happiness! You took away my right to think for myself and to be independent! AND NOW YOU'VE FUCKING TAKEN AWAY THE ONLY PERSON THAT I HAVE EVER FUCKING LOVED IN MY MISERABLE, FUCKING LIFE! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!"

Draco held his wand ready, knowing he had pushed his father's buttons just a bit too hard.

"I gave you a choice," Lucius hissed. "I gave you the chance to be happy. But you didn't accept my offer. You are what you have made yourself, Draco."

"No, Father, I am what _you_ created. A true product of my environment."

Lucius drew his wand. "What is it that you've come here for, Draco? Surely you didn't just want to have a little chat with me."

"I came to make things bloody right again. It was the last thing I could do for her. Since she can't get her revenge on you herself."

"Then we duel," Lucius said simply before launching his attack.

It wasn't for nothing that Draco wasted his time in those Death Eater meetings, watching the Dark Lord punish the foolish and weak followers he had gathered. He had watched the duels between the Death Eaters, picking up tips and strategies in case he ever needed them. He rolled, dodged, and otherwise blocked most of his father's curses.

He was firing them back at his father as fast as he could get the words out of his mouth, in between trying to keep himself alive.

He was wearing his father out with his dodging and ceaseless movement, Draco could tell.

'Just a few minutes more, and I'll have him, just hold on a few minutes more,' he thought.

But then, Draco made a mistake. He wasn't fast enough to throw up a Shield Charm to protect himself against another curse.

"_Sectumsempra!"_ Lucius cried.

Pain erupted from Draco's chest as though he had been stabbed with a white hot knife. He fell to the floor, gasping, his wand dropped and forgotten.

Lucius kicked him over onto his back to look into his son's face. The only heir to the Malfoy fortune. No longer apart of the family for his defiance. Lucius would make him pay dearly for that.

"So you thought you could defeat me, Draco? Did you really think for a second that you could actually kill _me?"_ The Dark Lord's right hand man? Who knows just as much as the Dark Lord himself on how to stay alive? Is that what you thought, dear son of mine?"

Draco stared up at him. His fight was fought. There was nothing more he could do now.

_I tried, Hermione. I tried so hard. _

He glared up at his father with as much hatred that he could possibly feel. As his blood ran free from his wound, he spoke.

"_I. . .hope. . .you. . .rot. . .in. . .hell. . .for. . .everything. . .that. . .you've. . .ever. . .done. . ."_

As his father raised his wand again, Draco allowed one last conscious thought.

'_I'm on my way, Hermione. We'll be together again soon.'_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_


End file.
